


Yours

by Azile (LadyBlacklodge)



Series: Intersect Universe [7]
Category: Original Work, Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Acting, Biracial Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bottom Mason Taylor, Childhood Trauma, College, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dark Past, Dartmouth College, Demisexuality, Drunken Kissing, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Fraternities & Sororities, Friends to Lovers, Ghosts, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lacrosse, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Marijuana, Murder, Mutual Masturbation, Native American Character(s), Original Character-centric, Pansexual Character, Past Child Abuse, Past Sex Addiction, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Poverty, Psychics, Road Trips, Rocky Horror Picture Show References, Romantic Soulmates, Salem MA, Sharing a Bed, Tarot, Theater - Freeform, Top Ezra Heart, Writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 118,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBlacklodge/pseuds/Azile
Summary: When Mason was seven years old, his mother began having an affair with a married man. When he was eight years old, that man divorced his wife, disowned his gay son, and moved Mason and his mother into a house bigger than Mason could have ever dreamed of. By the time he was ten, Craig Taylor was officially his father. Mason had always been grateful for it, even though a part of him was always bothered by the way his dad dropped his oldest son like it was nothing. It never matched up with the man who gave him a really good life, supported his academics and athleticism, and loved him unconditionally. Well, Mason assumes it's unconditionally. It probably wouldn't be so unconditional if Mason ever fell for a guy. But Mason has always had girlfriends, girlfriends he genuinely liked and cared for. What happened to Justin won't happen to Mason. That's what Mason tells himself until he meets Ezra Heart.
Relationships: Ezra Heart/Mason Taylor, James "Hunter" Montgomery/Molly Taylor
Series: Intersect Universe [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/327266
Comments: 22
Kudos: 16





	1. Early March 2014

**Author's Note:**

> This is essentially an original work focusing on two OCs from the Intersect Universe. Mason is Justin's and Molly's adoptive brother through Craig and Ezra is his boyfriend that he meets while in college. By the time they move into Justin's building, they have been together for close to a year and a half. This story centers around their friendship and the growth of their romantic relationship. I may eventually pull this story to make cuts and edits to put out an original novel but I would like to have a beta audience before I do that, so you get the long version ;) 
> 
> Just some warnings! 
> 
> Both Mason and Ezra have past traumas that may be triggering for some readers. Mason's trauma is sexual in nature and has not been revealed to anyone, causing a lot of turmoil. Ezra's trauma deals with the brutal murder of a cousin he was extremely close with (a hint: Ezra and Nathan have something huge in common), the suicide of his aunt, and a previous nervous breakdown. I usually wouldn't reveal these things, but it felt important.
> 
>   
> 

Mason's knowledge of theater is limited. While he has read plenty of plays, he has only actually seen a few. He vaguely remembers his mom taking him to a high school production of Peter Pan when he was six, but only because he was in a wheelchair with a broken leg and the memory of her glancing at him constantly throughout the show with worry, hope, and sadness is etched into his mind. He remembers his parents taking him to see Molly starring as The Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz back when Molly was in eighth grade and Mason was in the fifth. He also went to go see The Lion King on Broadway with Molly back when she was interning in New York. It had been a way for her to stay away from the batshit roommate that she had before she moved in with Justin. The two of them had spent the rest of her trip moving her things into Justin's loft in Chelsea and Mason got on a bus back home to Pittsburgh quickly after that. He doesn't think he has seen a show since.

But Zane had begged him to tag along, absolutely begged him. The guys in Tri-Kappa that he had already asked apparently weren't thrilled about the thought of seeing Angels in America, a production being put on by the LGBTQIA organization at the college. Zane himself probably wouldn't see it if it weren't for the fact that Yasmine is a supporting lead. 

"Come on, dude," Zane says, pacing the room, "It's already getting good reviews by papers outside of the college. Yasmine will kill me if I ditch it again."

"Then don't ditch it," Mason says slowly as he turns back around in his chair to read through what he's written on his laptop, "Just go."

"Not by myself," Zane says insistently, his voice getting more quiet, "There are going to be a lot of gay guys there. I can't sit with Yasmine since she is in the play and Caleb, Ross, and Matt would all rather die than get caught in that crowd. You aren't hung up on stuff like that. And...okay, look, I got nothing against gay people at all, but I will look like fresh meat to them if I go by myself."

Mason glances down at Zane's faded t-shirt and cargo shorts before meeting Zane's eyes again, "Somehow, I think they will manage to resist."

Zane narrows his eyes, "I'm being serious. One night, that's it. I owe you, bro."

Mason turns back to his work, "I didn't say yes, but whatever."

\--------------------

Okay, Mason might not have said yes but he went and he's actually really glad that he did.

It's phenomenal. He's never been sucked into a movie like that before, let alone a play. He doesn't care how gay it is (Zane does, going by how he shifts in his seat with discomfort every time two guys kiss on stage. He should probably get over that if he's going to continue dating a bi girl). Everyone in it is great, but the guy who plays Prior is incredible. He steals every scene he's in but plays off the other actors extremely well. He doesn't come off as if he's acting at all, never once, not like the rest of the actors occasionally do when they forcibly project their voices. Mason honestly finds himself waiting for him to come back on stage whenever he leaves it and is almost disappointed when the play is over. 

"It was okay," Zane shrugs, snapping Mason out of his trance, "Let's go out to the lobby to wait for Yas." 

It takes several minutes for the cast to come out. During that time, Zane doesn't get hit on once while Mason gets hit on twice. This doesn't get Zane to reassess his prejudices or misconceptions though. All it does is get him to say, "See? I am so glad you came, man. If you weren't here, then they would have come for me."

Before Mason can refute any of Zane's claims, Yas comes out one of the doors and approaches them.

"Hey, baby!" Zane says, changing his demeanor to meet Yas part way and wrap her into a hug, "You were amazing! Mason, wasn't my girl amazing?"

"Yeah," Mason agrees, "The whole play was great. It was really well done."

"Thanks for coming, Mason," Yas says sincerely, "It means a lot that you did. Most of the guys wouldn't from what Zane told me. I mean, it's whatever. They aren't my friends so they can do what they want. But I always knew you were the open-minded one."

Before Mason can awkwardly thank her for anything, a couple of her costars approach her, one of them being the one who had caught Mason's attention so much whenever he was on stage. He looks a lot healthier now that he's out of the stage makeup. He no longer looks like a suffering AIDS patient and he definitely doesn't have the gaunt cheekbones that he had during the play. They are high and sharp - which probably made it easier for the makeup and lighting team to manipulate his looks. All of his features are extremely striking. Upon closer inspection, Mason can see the guy has dark - almost black - almond shaped eyes, as well as black wavy hair, a defined jaw, and a nice smile. He's tall, but only a couple of inches taller than Mason. He’s thin but not as thin as he had looked before. He definitely looks healthier than he had in the play. 

"This is Jeremy Stein," Yas says, pointing to the guy to her right, "He directed us and he is fantastic. One of the best student directors here. And this is Ezra Heart, our biggest, most talented, shining bright star. He's absolutely incredible. Jeremy, Ezra, this is Zane and this is Mason."

"Now, Yas," Ezra tsks, looking at both of them closely, "You made up such nice introductions for us and you just stop at their _names_? Well, I won't stand for it. I'm advocating for them. Come up with something better that encompasses their personalities and souls. We'll wait."

Yas lets out a sigh, "Fine. This is Zane, my...I don't know if we have an official title yet-"

"The guy you're fucking, got it. You're terrible at this," Ezra interjects before zeroing in on Mason, "And who are you? The guy _he's_ fucking?" 

"No no no no no," Zane says before Mason can say a word, "Mason is my roommate. I don't swing that way, man. No offense if you do, but straight as an arrow here."

Ezra shrugs, looking amused by Zane's denials, "I swing all ways. Sort of like a tire swing, just going around and around in a circle, picking up whoever catches my eye, no matter how they may identify. You should try a different direction sometime. Just for fun." 

"He's messing with you," Yas says quickly before smacking Ezra on the arm, "You enjoy putting jocks on the spot too much."

"It's a pastime of mine, has been since high school," Ezra says, before smirking at Zane, "I like to judge the reactions I get. Will I get vehement denials or simply an eyeroll? A sucker punch, perhaps?" 

"It wouldn't be the first time," Yas mutters, before clearing her throat, "But anyway, that's Zane for you. _Be nice_. He's learning. And this is Mason, who is apparently the most open-minded person on the lacrosse team, considering he's here and not taking your teasing seriously."

Ezra meets his eyes and smiles, genuinely so, "I like you already." 

"Thank you," Mason says, smiling a little back before clearing his throat, "Yas was right, you know. You were incredible in the play. You stole the show."

"Oh, wow," Yas says, sounding both amused and maybe just slightly offended, "I see how it is."

"Oh honey," Ezra says to Yas, sending Mason a wink, "You were absolutely a close second so don't let anyone sell you short-"

"We should all go out," Yas interrupts pointedly, before glancing at Ezra, "You working tonight?"

"I'm not," Ezra says, sounding a bit more serious and reserved at the mention of work, "I do first thing in the morning, 6 to noon, then have to meet up to work on a group project at 1. I'm caught up with my papers and studying though. It's 8:30 now. As long as you all are down to go home by 12:30 so I can get four hours of sleep, I can be your DD."

"But you deserve to have fun too," Yas pouts.

"We can't all be rich Ivy Leaguers who can pick partying over mundane employment," Ezra laments, then shrugs, "I am sure I will still have a good time watching you all get wasted. But don't throw up in my car. It may be a piece of junk, but it is _my_ piece of junk."

"It happened one time," Jeremy says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"And that's more than enough," Ezra says, then looks around at everyone in the group, "So? We all in?"

\------------------------

They end up going to...not exactly a gay bar. At least Mason doesn’t think it is. There seem to be several straight couples there. But there also seem to be several gay couples there too. When Mason takes the time to look it up, reviews say it is ‘LGBTQ inclusive’ while other reviews say that Tuesdays must unofficially be ‘Breeder Tuesdays’ because they couldn’t even find a heteroflexible guy to hook up with. 

It seems like it could be a relatively gay night tonight though. While Mason does see heterosexual couples there, he also sees drag queens. 

"On the house," Yas says as she hands Mason a drink that he wouldn't have picked for himself before she starts cooing, "Such a bad night for a youngster like yourself to forget his fake ID. You're lucky it's 18 and up to get in."

"Are you eighteen?" Ezra asks, glancing at him across the table before looking at Yaz, "Is he a baby? Did we bring a literal infant with us?"

“I’m nineteen,” Mason says pointedly, taking a sip from the drink before making a face over how sweet it is, “Almost twenty.”

“A toddler then,” Ezra says, biting back a smile before putting a hand down on the table as Yas drags Zane over to do karaoke with her and Jeremy goes across the room to ask a drag queen if they’d like a drink, “Okay, nineteen, almost twenty. How close is almost?”

Before Mason can answer, one of the bartenders passes by their table, gives them both a look, then puts a napkin down on the center of the table, “Thought you boys might want this.”

Ezra looks up at her with what seems like a knowing expression, “Did you? And what might we need a napkin for, Alexis?”

Alexis tsks, “Don’t act dumb. You go to Dartmouth. You and your friend just think about it. I get off at 1 but I’m more than willing to get off again. And again. And again.”

Mason only chokes on his drink for a second before Alexis winks at him and walks away. Ezra rolls his eyes when he picks up the napkin and turns it over, only to slide it over to Mason.

“Alexis propositions threesomes on a semi-regular basis, don’t mind her,” Ezra says as Mason reads the napkin that dons Alexis’s number and the words **BOTH OF YOU!** on it, “I’m surprisingly not in the mood tonight but we have hooked up a few times. Once with my ex-boyfriend. Another time with my ex-girlfriend. Two weeks ago, it was just the two of us, which was actually the most awkward out of the three times I’ve had sex with her. She’s good though. So if you want to take her up on it, she has been known to sleep with only one person at a time.”

Mason huffs out a laugh before sliding the napkin off to the side, “I’m flattered, but uh...not tonight. I have stuff I need to work on.”

Ezra scrutinizes him and gives him a once over before leaning in to talk more quietly, “You’re not lying, are you? Because you don’t have to lie. If you’re a virgin, we can find you someone who is a lot more vanilla-”

“I’m not a virgin,” Mason interrupts, looking at Ezra in amusement, “But I appreciate the thought and understanding you put into that offer regardless.”

Ezra sits up straight again and shrugs playfully, “I try. I don’t judge. If you want to screw around, do it. If you never want to touch a vag or a dick, then that’s fine too. The fact is, people get judged for being on either end of that spectrum and it makes no sense to me. Like, at all. But since you seem to fall somewhere in the healthy and socially acceptable middle, what are you into?”

Mason shrugs, “What do you mean?”

“What’s your type?” Ezra asks, clarifying, “Are you seeing someone and that’s why you’re being shy and staying at the table? Or is Alexis not your type? Are you not into white girls? Or are you not into women?”

“I have only slept with women,” Mason says slowly, “And um…I don’t have anything against white girls. I would date one if I liked her. But now that I’m thinking about it, I’ve never been with a white girl. My last girlfriend was an exchange student from Zimbabwe but my girlfriend before was Native American so I don’t know if I have a type.”

Ezra inexplicably perks up at that, “I’m Native too! Lakota Sioux. About half. I got my mom an Ancestry DNA test when they were on sale because she was adopted. We knew a little about her mom because she was living on a neighboring reservation when the adoption took place but we knew nothing about her dad. We just thought he had to be white because she looks white. She’s half Jewish - a mixture of Ashkenazi and Georgian, from what I understand - only one-eighth Native, and the rest is Irish. But my dad is pretty much all Sioux and very close to his roots. He can trace pretty far back. He and my mom both grew up on the Pine Ridge Reservation and so did I. What’s your ex’s name? We all know each other, don’t let anyone try to tell you differently.”

Mason snorts, “You do not all know each other.”

“I’ll prove you wrong!” Ezra challenges, “Now, what’s her name?”

“Tiva Torivio.”

Ezra seems to think long and hard for a moment before shaking his head, “Yeah, it doesn’t ring a bell.”

Mason tilts his head in mock confusion, “But I thought you all knew each other.”

Ezra sits back in his seat and stares at Mason in over the top disbelief, “Wow, Mason. You know, I expected that from the other white people in this room, but from you? Seriously?”

“I apologize for any assumptions I made that stemmed from my white privilege and the fact that, you know, you claimed to know all Native Americans,” Mason says, trying and failing not to smile.

“You’re forgiven,” Ezra says kindly, then glances down at his phone, “How much of a fight do you think they’ll put up if I make them leave now? It’s only 11:30 but-”

“You need to get home,” Mason finishes, downing his drink, then glances over to spot out the three other people in their group, “Considering Jeremy has his head on the bar and Zane and Yas are making out on the pool table, I think we should start getting them out of here now. They might be drunk enough to believe us if we say that the clocks go forward tonight and that it is really 12:30 after all.”

Ezra grins widely, “I _love_ your brain, Nineteen, Almost Twenty. Let’s go lie to our friends.”

Jeremy ends up not needing the lie. Mason is able to get him ready to go by shaking his shoulder a few times and helping the guy up to his feet. Zane and Yas apparently need more encouragement, but Ezra is such a charismatic actor that it doesn’t take much effort on his part.

\----------------------------------

After they drop Jeremy off without any drama other than Mason having to make sure he gets up to his apartment okay, they get back on the road to drop off Yaz only for Zane to want to leave with her.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Ezra says slowly as he watches Zane attempt to get out of the car with suspicious eyes.

“I’m not going to fucking make it, dude,” Zane slurs out, “I am going to throw up.”

“Then throw up outside,” Ezra says to him, “There is no need for you to go up to Yas’s apartment to do it.”

“There’s plenty of reasons,” Yas says, before hiccupping, “I’m going to take c...care of him. He’s my lover.”

“He’s your frat boy fuck buddy, but okay,” Ezra rolls his eyes before looking at Zane again, “You try anything with her when she’s this drunk and I will end you.”

Zane squeezes his eyelids shut and grimaces in pain, “Man, I’m not even sure _I_ can stand up right now, let alone my dick.”

“That’s super comforting, now get out of my car,” Ezra dismisses, although he does watch to make sure Zane and Yas get into the building okay. 

“So,” Ezra says, breaking the silence once they are back on the highway, “Where do you live?”

“The Tri-Kappa house,” Mason yawns.

Ezra glances over at him, his expression unreadable, “You’re in the KKK?”

“Oh wow,” Mason snorts, “First time I’ve heard that joke in awhile. My sister used to text me links on how to say no to hate groups.”

“I didn’t mean it like _that_ ,” Ezra says, before shrugging, “Okay, maybe I did a little. But I just didn’t see you as a frat boy. At all.”

“I live with Zane,” Mason says slowly, “Who you said earlier screams frat with his mere presence. It’s not that far of a stretch to believe I’m in a frat too.”

“...Nah,” Ezra decides, glancing over at him again, “I mean, I can respect that every group is diverse in its own way, but you just don’t scream frat boy. Your presence is much less douchey, more tolerable, enjoyable even. Can you honestly tell me that the vast majority of your frat isn’t at least somewhat douchey and pretentious?”

Mason honestly thinks about it for a moment. Maybe it’s the alcohol that’s making him less defensive or maybe it’s Ezra himself, but Mason is able to shake his head, “No. I honestly can’t. They aren’t all terrible people, but a lot of them are douchebags and extremely full of themselves, especially when they decide to haze pledges. I almost got kicked out this year because I refused to participate or help set any of that up. I know there are groups that do a lot worse than Tri-Kappa but...I don’t know, I don’t want to be a part of that. I’m not going to put any guys through what I got put through to get in.”

Ezra nods as traffic begins to slow, “That’s good. You should be proud, standing up for yourself like that. But why wouldn’t you leave during the hazing if they were putting you through something truly awful?”

Mason does feel discomfort at that and hesitates to answer the question. Does he really want to unpack all of that? He never really has before. But Ezra is really easy to talk to. He may judge Zane, but he doesn’t seem to be judging Mason and has been friendly to him all night. 

“...My dad was in Tri-Kappa,” Mason ends up saying, “I didn’t want to disappoint him. And it was a way to make friends and meet people. I can still stand by that. A lot of them are douchey, but some of them really are good people and they are in the fraternity to help their resume, not to haze people or abuse any sort of seniority they have.”

“Hmmm,” Ezra says, “I can understand. Sort of. I joined theater, music, and LGBTQ groups as soon as I got here to meet people. No hazing though. Just auditions or simply signing a list. Maybe they won’t help my resume but they gave me friends and helped me improve my skills, so hopefully that comes in handy one day.”

Mason looks straight ahead as traffic continues at a crawl, “I think it will. I meant what I said after the show. You really were incredible. You have a lot of talent. I don’t know a lot about acting really, but even I can see you are probably one of the most talented actors at Dartmouth.”

Mason turns his head to look at Ezra again and sees Ezra smiling, just a little - as if he doesn’t want to show how much the compliment pleases him - before the man clears his throat. 

“So what do you do?” Ezra asks after a pause, “What do you want to do with your life? What are your hopes and dreams?”

“My hopes and dreams?” Mason repeats.

“Your hopes and dreams,” Ezra confirms.

“Um…” Mason starts, “I’m an Economics Major with a focus in Marketing and Business.”

“Oooh, very Type A of you. Maybe you are a frat boy,” Ezra says, grinning teasingly, “So you’re into numbers, money, demographics, and sales. I can respect that. I mean, I can’t relate but I can respect it. What are your plans after-”

“I also write.”

Mason doesn’t know why he says it, it’s stupid of him to mention a hobby like that. No one really asks questions after he tells them his major (although apparently Ezra is an exception to that). But no one has ever asked about his stories or the novel he’s been working on for the last year at all because he has never told anyone. No, that’s a lie. He took a creative writing course last semester to satisfy an English credit and wrote short stories and a one act play for it. The professor pulled him aside and asked if he had ever thought of publishing his work or submitting the one act play to the theater department so that it could be produced by the college. He had told her he wasn’t interested. 

In truth, it hadn’t been because he wasn’t interested. He was scared. The thought of it still scares him. While her words had given him a little bit of confidence, it hadn’t been enough to even show his closest friends or family - or even tell them that he writes at all.

And yet he just told someone he only met tonight. 

“Really?” Ezra asks, sounding much more interested in that, “What do you write?”

“Um…” Mason starts, feeling put on the spot, “Sometimes short stories. I’ve uh...I’ve been working on a novel. I don’t know, it’s dumb.”

Ezra gives him a strange look, “No, it’s not.”

Mason doesn’t really have anything to say to that. He’s hoping that Ezra will just drop it, but apparently Ezra isn’t the type to do that.

“Hey, it’s not dumb,” Ezra repeats, “Look at me and tell me it’s not dumb.”

“I’m not doing that,” Mason snorts as they inch forward until Ezra puts his foot on the brake and puts the car in park. 

“I will not move this car until you tell me that your passion for writing is valid and not dumb.”

Mason looks around, “You know this method isn’t as effective as you think, right? We’re basically stopped anyway.”

“But we won’t be stuck forever,” Ezra says, pointing out the obvious, “And that’s how long I am willing to wait. It will be so embarrassing when everyone starts honking at us.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Mason mutters, closing his eyes to wait Ezra out and only wincing slightly when the inevitable honking starts a few minutes later.

“God, I’m so embarrassed,” Ezra says, not sounding embarrassed at all, “I sure wish that the guy next to me wasn’t so stubborn and insecure about something he seems to really care about, enough that he’s too nervous to even talk about it-”

“Fine,” Mason says, letting out a breath as he keeps his eyes closed, “It’s not stupid. There. You happy?”

“No. You weren’t looking at me when you said it.”

Mason lets out an incredulous and uncontrollable giggle at that, the honking behind them getting louder and more insistent as he finally looks at Ezra, “You’re a child.”

“Mmmm, no,” Ezra says, still not shifting the car out of park, “You were the baby of the group tonight, sorry. Still didn’t get your birthday out of you, by the way. I was the oldest and by far the most mature. I may only be a junior...I think...I swear I make good grades, but going part-time last semester made my graduation date a bit hazy. However, I am already 22. So old and wise. Which is why you should listen to me and own what you love. But don’t worry, I’ll wait here.”

“You’ll wait here? Fine. So will I,” Mason says, reclining his chair back. But he can only do it for so long. When people start yelling out their car from their windows, he can’t stay as level-headed and stubborn as Ezra can. Mason opens his left eye, only to see Ezra watching him with an intense patience and a raised brow.

“Fine, it’s not stupid,” Mason says, sounding calmer than he felt when he told him before they pissed everyone off behind them.

“...That’s a little better,” Ezra gives in, pulling the car out of park and into drive, “I mean, it wasn’t perfect, but it was an improvement. I don’t know if you believe it still, but it is really sad that someone made you feel that way. Makes me want to punch them in the face because fuck that.”

Mason watches Ezra for a moment, an unknown feeling forming in his gut, before he moves past it, “No one made me feel that way, except for me, I guess. No one really knows that I write at all. Except for an English teacher I had in high school and a creative writing professor I had here.”

“Which professor?” Ezra asks.

“Professor Menendez,” Mason says softly.

“Oh, Maya?” Ezra says, “She’s tough. I had her a couple of years ago. She really has an eye for great work though and gives good feedback on how to improve it. What kind of feedback did she give you?”

Mason breathes out through his nose, “...She offered to help me publish the short stories and asked me to submit my one act play to the theater department.”

Ezra sputters, then looks at Mason again, “I’m about to put my car back into park out of spite.”

“Please don’t.”

To give Ezra credit, he doesn’t. He also shuts up for a few minutes before he breaks the silence once more, “Mason...she would not tell you that unless she thought it was really fucking good.”

Mason rubs a hand down his face, “It’s just a hobby, so-”

“So what?” Ezra says, “It could turn into something a lot bigger. Or a side gig. Or just sharing your work with the world and making it a little bit better. For someone who is so into Economics and Marketing, you sure are underselling yourself.”

“Yeah, well…” Mason says, “Like I said, no one really knows. A couple of teachers, maybe the students in those classes, and...I guess you.”

Ezra nods, “...Okay, fine. Take your time with it. I get it. It’s hard to expose something more personal to you. But if it means anything, I would be honored to read anything you let me read.”

“...Maybe,” Mason gives him, shifting in his seat, “If we ever hang out after tonight.”

“Oh, please,” Ezra says, “With Yas and Zane screwing around, we’re practically in-laws. We’ll see each other all the time.”

“That literally makes no sense, but okay,” Mason says, a smile making its way to his face regardless.

What should have been a fifteen minute ride turns into a little over an hour due to construction and detours - a stupid move by the city considering its the weekend. While Mason would usually be incredibly annoyed by all of the traffic, he finds that he isn’t tonight, considering his conversations with Ezra have time flying like it’s nothing. He feels for Ezra though. The guy has to get up early and seems to have a jammed pack schedule tomorrow. Yet even as Ezra pulls into the parking lot across from his building, they find themselves talking for at least twenty minutes more before Mason looks at Ezra’s car radio clock blinking **1:00 AM**.

“You need to get some sleep,” Mason forces himself to say, still staring at the clock, “You’re going to be exhausted tomorrow.”

Ezra looks at the clock as well and lets out a groan, “Fuck…”

“Where do you live?” Mason asks, turning his head only to see Ezra rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Claremont.”

“Claremont…” Mason starts, trying to map it out in his head, “Isn’t that 30 minutes away?”

Ezra sends him a sardonic smile, “When there’s no traffic, sure.”

“So it’s going to be like two hours tonight,” Mason says slowly.

Ezra shrugs, “There’s no point in heading back there tonight. I work the breakfast shift at a restaurant down the street. I have my uniform and some clothes in my trunk. A spare toothbrush and toothpaste. Even my school stuff is in there since I was working on my paper earlier in the afternoon before the play. I’ll just park somewhere and sleep.”

Mason continues to watch Ezra and suddenly can see as plain as day how tired the guy is and he finds himself shaking his head.

“Nah, you should sleep in a bed,” Mason says, then gestures towards the back, “Get your stuff. You can sleep in Zane’s bed.”

“Ew!” Ezra says, his head popping up to meet Mason’s eyes, already shaking his head no, “Absolutely not. I don’t know where he has been. And no offense, Mason, but he’s a frat boy living in a frat house-”

“Our room is clean. I make sure of that,” Mason laughs, “I can’t speak for the other bedrooms, but I was raised by two neat freaks. Color coded chore charts and everything. It's a habit now.”

Ezra lets out a breath of relief, “Thank god your parents traumatized you enough that it stuck. I still don’t know how I feel about going into that house though. It might ruin my reputation if someone sees.”

Mason holds back a smile and tries to nod seriously as he opens the passenger door, “Well, it’s your choice. I understand if the Tri-Kappa house is beneath you. But the offer stands.”

Initially, Mason had thought Ezra’s opposition to staying at the house was put on, a front in a teasing attempt to get Mason riled up. But Ezra seems to be a man that at least tries to stand by his convictions. He doesn’t change his mind until Mason is almost at the front door.

“There are no ridiculous frat parties tonight, right?”

Mason turns around at the sound of Ezra’s voice, “Oh, you would know already if there were. Most of the guys went to a party at the Sigma Delta house tonight.”

Although Mason can’t quite make out Ezra’s features from where he’s standing, it seems as if Ezra’s silhouette is hesitating before going to the back of the car, opening the trunk, and grabbing a bag.

“Fine,” Ezra says as soon as he’s closer, “I’ll try not to wake you up in the morning when I have to leave.”

“Don’t worry about it if you do,” Mason says to him as he opens the door and leads the way up the stairs, “I fall back asleep pretty easily. If you want to take a shower or anything in the morning, the bathroom is across the hall. I can leave a clean towel and my shower stuff out for you.”

There isn’t much talking after that. Mason gives Ezra first dibs to the bathroom and awkwardly looks away when Ezra strips down to his boxer briefs and a T-shirt before going to the bathroom himself. By the time he’s back in the room, only a courtesy desk lamp is on and Ezra seems to already be asleep. Within minutes, Mason is asleep too.

The next morning, Mason wakes up to a door shutting softly and an empty bed across the room. The towel Mason left for Ezra is now in the hamper and his things are gone. As hard as Mason tries to get back to sleep, he can’t. He doesn’t know why. All he knows is that he’s a little bothered that he and Ezra didn’t exchange numbers and it might be a weird thought to have, but it’s what he feels. 

Giving up on sleep, he goes over to his desk and sees if he can write since he has the room to himself. But as soon as he looks down at the laptop, he sees a piece of paper on top of it with writing that isn’t his own. 

_Dear Nineteen (Almost Twenty),_

_Thanks for letting me crash. Write today! In case you want to talk again my number is: 603-555-4378. No threesomes required ;)_

_Warmest Regards,_

_Traffic Stopping Child_

Mason finds himself grinning at the note, sends Ezra a short text to let him know what his number is, and writes for hours.


	2. Mid March 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra has always hated working shifts at the restaurant when it's empty. It has always felt absolutely pointless. But just for tonight, he's glad he only has one person in his section.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: suicidal statements made by a relative, financial stress, vague references to a hate crime.

Ezra enters his apartment a little after 1 am. He is tempted to just go to bed. The late night crowd was bigger and more demanding than usual for a Thursday night and all he wants to do is just go to sleep. But he never can just do that. He needs to work on his paper, so he opts to down the large to-go cup of coffee from the diner he has in his hand. He is caught up with everything but has to hone in on his Intercultural Communications speech, perfect it on paper, then outline it so it doesn't come off as rehearsed when he has to give it on Monday. He's not going to have time to do it tomorrow night. He works until 10 pm and goes straight to his second job. He should have time on Sunday. He has Sunday off. But he doesn't want to rush this and fuck it up. He has gotten one B since arriving here. One. It literally got him called into a meeting regarding if his specialized double major should still be granted. That and his on and off part-time status as well as how much he works his 'part-time' jobs have made the head of his department question his dedication to the school. It doesn't apparently matter how many plays and student films he stars in, how much he promotes other students' projects, how well he does, how many organizations he joins. It doesn’t matter how many scholarships and grants he has either. They still don't put a roof over his head or food in his stomach. He has to do that himself. He is always going to have to prove himself.

He's fucking exhausted. 

At least he isn't doing Dr. Frank-N-Furter tomorrow at the theater. It's his weekend to be the emcee, which just requires him to wear a Rocky Horror t-shirt and jeans. Drag is an art form and takes time that he just won't have tomorrow. His voice will be tired but his body will be okay. He'll just have to shave his legs for the fishnets next weekend.

He rewards himself with the couch when he is finished with the transcript and the outline, rehearsing it a few times at a low volume to get the hang of it, then works on where to pause and the cadence of the sentences. He's figuring out how to verbally present his closing statements when Deirdre comes through the door.

"Hey, you're up! Aren't you tired?" Deirdre asks as soon as she walks through the door.

Ezra shrugs and looks back down at his laptop before deciding to close it for the night, "I had to finish up some work for class on Monday. I thought you were already in bed but apparently I was wrong. Were you out being a slut again?"

Deirdre gives him an ornery look, "The biggest slut here is you and we all know it."

Ezra puts a hand to his chest as if he's offended, "You act like I even have time to be a slut."

Deirdre pouts, "I miss Slut You. He was great. He should come out with me tomorrow and find a nice guy or girl to hook up with."

Ezra slouches his shoulders, "I work. Sorry. Sounds tempting though. But maybe I can fuck someone in my car on a smoke break."

"You don't smoke," Deirdre says, "You are terrified it will ruin your voice. I brought home a pot brownie for you though. As a gift. You want it now?"

Ezra perks up but then shakes his head, "Not right now. Later. I want it when I actually have time to enjoy it."

"So a few weeks from now when it's stale and loses some of its potency."

"Basically, yes," Ezra responds, then holds back a yawn. Deirdre walks over to him and runs a hand through his hair. 

"Get some rest," she says softly, "It's 4:30 in the morning. You need sleep. You are going to burn out if you keep pushing yourself like this. I worry. I’m sure Hallie does too. You are probably the only person that she likes. Who is she going to occasionally hang out with if you drop dead from exhaustion?"

"I envy Hallie," Ezra says, trying to lighten the mood, "Graduating in a few months, asleep right now in her room. She is living her best life." 

Deirdre kisses the top of Ezra's head, "And you should too. Please, PLEASE let us know if you need any help. Love you."

"Love you too!" Ezra calls out as she walks out of the living room. 

After Deirdre is out of the bathroom and settled in her own room, Ezra gets ready to go to bed himself. Once his teeth are brushed and he lets himself fall onto his bed, he knows he's going to pass out within minutes. He can feel himself drifting in and out now. 

Until his phone starts ringing. 

Ezra lets out a breath and looks at his phone. Home. It's home and it's 5 am, even earlier there. He doesn't want to answer it, he is terrified to answer. But he knows he has no choice and he braces himself for the worst.

"Hello?" He asks, closing his eyes as he lets out a shaky breath.

_I deserve to die, Ez. I'm gonna fucking do it. Put a bullet through my head. I fucking deserve it. I do_. 

Ezra sighs at the sound of his Uncle Chaska's voice and it's almost in relief. It's awful to hear him say these things but at least it isn't his dad calling to tell him that Uncle Chaska went through with it and they couldn't stop him like Ezra used to.

"You don't deserve it," Ezra says softly, "And you don't have a gun. Dad hates guns. He would never allow one in the house."

"I'll find one," Uncle Chaska mutters, before sniffling, "I'm stupid now, kid. I'm so fucking stupid and it's my fault. The brain injury is on me and Una's and Mika's deaths are on me. I deserve to die. Why didn't you let me do it before? You fucking asshole. I made my wife kill herself. She got to do it. My daughter is dead because the car wasn’t back from the shop when she first wanted to come home. I’m just as responsible as that evil son of a bitch is. Mika was the closest friend you ever had and you want me alive? Fuck you. You're as evil as I am. Selfish asshole!"

"How much have you had to drink?" Ezra asks, blinking back tears, "You're saying stuff you don't mean. Hurtful stuff you wouldn't normally say. Maybe wake up Dad? Tell him you aren't feeling well so that he can sit with you?"

"...Power's out again, Charged my phone at Kele’s house last night," Uncle Chaska mentions, his broken brain completely switching gears.

Ezra closes his eyes and runs a hand down his face, "Power company taking its sweet time to treat the lines on our land again or did Mom and Dad fall behind on the bills?"

"Probably the second one," Uncle Chaska says, suddenly sounding very tired.

"I'll try to send some money to help out," Ezra says, feeling queasy as numbers start going through his brain.

"I'm…" Uncle Chaska starts, then clears his throat, "I'm sorry for bothering you, kid. I'm feeling better now. I just lost my head. It's been easy to do that the last few years. I just miss her so damn much."

Whether Uncle Chaska is talking about Mika or Aunt Una, he doesn't know. It doesn't really matter either way when Ezra sniffles and says, "Yeah, I miss her too."

After Ezra hangs up the phone, he looks out his window to see if the sun has risen yet. It hasn't. 

\---------------

The Friday night dinner crowd is a lot slower than usual. It might be better for him physically, considering he got no sleep. But financially? It fucks him up. He relies on his sunny, fun, and flirty disposition to get him tips and keep him afloat but it is hard to keep that up when there is barely anyone to keep that up for. He goes an hour without anyone in his section. A full fucking hour. It kills him because he could have just stayed home to catch up on rest or get ahead in one of his classes but he's here for no fucking reason. He would even take a table of obnoxious frat boys right now. Maybe some stingy Karens. Even a table of his admirers. He usually gets at least a couple that come in throughout the day to eye him but today there has been nothing. They at least tip pretty well, despite the discomfort a few of them put him through. 

"I just sat someone in your section," Willow says to him quietly when he comes out from the kitchen, "Get the pep back up. You're the main reason anyone wants to keep working here and you're a pod person tonight."

"Please tell me it's a few someones," Ezra says as he continues walking towards his section.

"No, only one," Willow says, keeping up with him, "I haven't seen him around before but he's super cute in a quiet, mysterious, athletic, secretly nerdy, puppy dog sort of way and he asked to sit in your section specifically after he asked if you were here."

Ezra stops in his tracks and looks at Willow strangely, "Cute in a quiet, mysterious, athletic, secretly nerdy, puppy dog sort of way?"

"You have to see him for yourself, but believe me, I'm right. I don’t think he’s from your fan club. He isn’t weird enough," Willow says, before getting excited, "He has his laptop so he might be staying for a while."

"Great," Ezra says, snorting as he walks away, "A loiterer. Alright, I better go wait on him hand and foot." 

"Good luck!" Willow calls out. Ezra is about to ask her 'Good luck with what?' but she's already nowhere to be found when he turns around. 

As he walks towards the back room, he wonders who would ask for him. If not someone from his alleged ‘fan club’, it would usually be Deirdre, Hallie, Yas, Jessie, Frankie, or Pedro. Or some clingy person he hooked up with one too many times (which could also be Pedro, but whatever). But when he turns the corner and sees Mason sitting at a booth on his laptop, he is really surprised to see him but suddenly Willow's description of him makes total sense. So much sense that Ezra feels like he should have known who she was talking about the whole time even though he wasn't expecting Mason at all. 

Finding something to smile about, enough that it practically adds a bounce to his step, Ezra walks over to the booth and startles a focused Mason with a "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Mason pushes the laptop to the side, "Oh, hey."

"Hey," Ezra repeats in a teasing manner, raising a brow before toning it down, "What would you like to drink?" 

"Uh", Mason says, looking at the table as if the drink will just appear as soon as he says it, "Water's cool."

Ezra tsks and rolls his eyes, "You're cheap and too healthy, but whatever."

"It's lacrosse season. I need to stay hydrated," Mason says, "But you can add a soda or something to the bill and drink it. My treat."

"You know we get free drinks here, right?" Ezra says, "They aren't that inhumane."

Mason mocks a serious expression, "Yeah, but are they the nice coke glasses or are they the little plastic cups that most other restaurants make the crew use?"

"The latter."

Mason nods and brings his computer back over in front of him, "Then I want to buy you a beverage of your choice in a guest glass so that you can drink it in front of everyone, including your boss. Fuck The Man."

Ezra nods, biting back a smile, "Challenging authority, I like it. I'll be back with your water."

Ezra walks out of the back room and behind the bar, where Willow suddenly appears behind him.

"Seriously, are you the resident diner ghost?" He has to ask probably for the fifteenth time in the six months he has worked here as he fills the glass to the top with ice and water out of the foundation machine, "You literally appear out of nowhere all of the time." 

Willow shrugs, not committing to any solid answer, which makes Ezra legitimately suspicious, "Maybe, but I would actually like to take on the role of fairy godmother tonight. Get you ready for the big ball, help you secure your new man."

Ezra gives her a look, "He's not my new man. He's a new friend. We just met a couple of weeks ago and have been texting back and forth, met up for coffee on Tuesday in between classes-"

"A friends to lovers story," Willow coos, "I love that for you."

"I'm pretty sure he's straight," Ezra says, turning to her fully, "He told me the first night we met that he has only slept with women. So don't get your hopes up. You probably have a lot better of a shot than I do."

"...Maybe," Willow says, glancing over towards her station to see if there are any new guests, "But I wouldn't rule out him being bi or questioning. He may have said he's only slept with women but that doesn't mean he's straight. I'm sure there was a time where you only had a couple of girls under your belt."

"My first time was with a transgender guy who lived in North Dakota. We sixty-nined in the middle of an overgrown field," Ezra says as he begins to walk away, "So no, not really."

"He's flirting with you!" Willow calls out from behind him, "He's literally courting you!"

"No one uses the word courting anymore, more proof that you're a ghost! And stop eavesdropping on my conversations!" Ezra calls back before turning the corner and heading back to Mason's booth.

"A water for you," Ezra says, placing the water next to Mason, "I put a lemon wedge on the rim in case you want to live life a little."

Mason huffs out a laugh, "Thanks, it means a lot, you looking out for my best interests and all."

Ezra looks around the restaurant, "Well, I have nothing else better to do. It's been slow all evening." 

"Yeah," Mason says with a sigh, "There are a few frat and sorority houses holding parties tonight. Weekend before Saint Patrick's Day and all. Over half of your clientele have probably drunk their weight in green beer by now."

"Greek Life, wrecking havoc to my finances yet again," Ezra says, only semi-feigning sadness until giving Mason a double take, "Why aren't you at the Tri-Kap house hooking up with a sorority sister in a bathroom?"

The corner of Mason's mouth quirks up as he shrugs, "...I don't know. Not in the mood tonight, I guess. I have some stuff to work on-"

"Right, right," Ezra says, moving on and taking out his notepad, "Do you want to hear the specials?"

"I didn't mean I wanted to stop talking," Mason says, "I just meant that I needed to get out of that house and away from those people. You mentioned where you worked so it was the first place I thought of.”

Ezra studies him for a moment, "First place, huh? You missed me that much." 

Maybe Ezra is reading too much into things but he could swear a slight blush reaches Mason's cheeks before the younger man starts stumbling over his words, "I...I mean...I didn't NOT miss you. Or miss you. I mean, I was hoping you'd be working-"

"You're not on the bench, you don't have to explain yourself," Ezra snorts, smiling slightly as he holds his pen to his paper, "You know what you want?"

\---------------------

The restaurant really is dead. That’s what happens when you don’t even offer a shamrock shaped pancake or steak as a special. But Ezra is coping with it, the idea he won’t make much tonight. The fact someone ditched a few parties and came out of their way to see him is making him feel good. Regardless of what Willow says, he can see Mason potentially becoming a good friend. Both of the times they’ve met, they have gotten sucked into a playful, kind, and even meaningful conversation. It’s not _flirting_.

Okay, maybe it’s flirting on Ezra’s part. But it doesn’t take much to get him into flirting mode. Flirting is sort of his baseline. And he’s pretty sure Mason is so straight and out of the loop when it comes to things even remotely queer that he doesn’t notice.

Although, Mason _did_ get strangely flustered when he called him out on coming here…

He’s not going to get his hopes up. He’s not going to ruin what could be a good friendship. He will just nourish it. 

And since Molly isn’t here, he does let himself have that drink and sit down with him. 

“So what are you working on?” Ezra says, briefly eyeing the computer, “Anything good for me to eventually read when you stop being so weird about showing people your work?”

“Uh, my answer is no in multiple ways, so sorry to disappoint,” Mason says, taking a bite of his side salad. Ezra should check the kitchen in another five minutes on Mason’s Thai Chicken.

“Then what is it, if not the next great American novel?” Ezra asks, taking a sip of his coke. 

“It’s a research paper for my Principles of Marketing class,” Mason says, then gives him a small, teasing smile, “I feel more comfortable letting you read it. If you’re still dead set on reading some of my work, that is.”

Ezra purses his lips and shakes his head, “While I’m sure it’s a lovely paper, it’s not in my area of interest and I have a lot of better things to do with my time. Like read your creative writing stuff or bathe feral cats.”

Mason lets out a surprised laugh at his rejection, “Sorry. I literally have no inspiration for the creative writing stuff right now.”

“Didn’t you tell me last week that you came up with your more inspiring ideas in the shower?” Ezra asks, chuckling, “Are all of the Tri-Kap bathrooms taken for more carnal purposes?”

“I would not be surprised,” Mason says before clearing his throat, “Hey, do you want anything? You can add it to my bill.”

Ezra raises his eyebrows, “I am on the clock.”

Mason takes a bite of his side salad, then swallows, “Don’t you get a lunch break? Or I guess it would be dinner now.” 

“A break that I have to clock out for, yes,” Ezra says, “I’m avoiding that tonight. We might not be super busy, but I still technically get paid an hourly wage.”

Mason nods, “What is it here? For tip workers in New Hampshire, it’s forty-five percent of the state’s minimum wage, right?”

Ezra sits back, somewhat impressed by Mason’s homework, “Actually, we get fifty percent here. Molly’s generous...and sort of full of herself, but we won’t get into that.”

“Yeah, I saw the place was named after a Molly,” Mason says, looking around, “My sister’s name is Molly.”

“Aw,” Ezra says, smiling a little, “Molly and Mason. That’s so cute.”

Mason snorts, “Our dad adopted me when he married my mom. He had Molly with his ex-wife. My mom named me years before they came into the picture. Pure coincidence.”

“Or was it fate?” Ezra suggests.

“Considering my dad and mom are in the process of divorcing, maybe the former,” Mason grimaces.

Ezra bites his lip and briefly pats Mason on the hand, “I’m sorry.”

But Mason just shrugs, “It is what it is, I guess.”

Ezra watches him for a moment, then shakes his head, “You don’t have to do that. Say, ‘It is what it is’ if what it is sucks.”

Mason nods absentmindedly, “I’m pretty sure my sister couldn’t care less. She and my dad have a lot of problems. She keeps her distance from him. She doesn’t with me but it kind of felt that way for a while. I probably do it to her too. I get busy and forget to reach out to her.”

Ezra thinks on that for a moment, then meets Mason’s eyes, “Well, you should text her. Right now. Tell her that while you are busy, you wanted to check in and let her know that you love her.”

Mason makes a face, “...Yeah, I don’t know about that-”

“I’m an only child,” Ezra interrupts, not even controlling the words coming out of his mouth, “But I had a cousin I grew up with. She was basically an older sister to me. If I could still text her, I would. But I can’t, so...yeah. You should text your sister.”

Mason watches Ezra and squints, “Why can’t you text your cousin?”

Ezra wishes he hadn’t even said anything. He really wishes he hadn’t. But Mason is easy for him to talk to. A lacrosse playing Tri-Kappa frat boy is easy for him to talk to, kill him right now. Bright side of dying would be that he might be able to talk to Mika and Aunt Una again, if any form of an afterlife exists. The Lakota tribe believes that souls go to the happy hunting ground with other souls, where there is better weather and plenty of animals to hunt. The other souls and the nice weather sounds nice, but Ezra just feels like he would get upset every time an ancestral spirit killed a buffalo. Ezra has to make sure he is scheduled off for lobster night. He can’t handle seeing them come into the restaurant alive and out of the kitchen on plates. But talking to Mika and Aunt Una might make seeing animals die over and over worth it. 

That’s the only good part though. He would miss a lot of people. He might even miss the guy across from him. He only met him a couple of weeks ago, but he thinks he just might.

“...Let me check on your meal,” Ezra says softly, sliding out of the booth to walk back to the kitchen.

Or he attempts to. What stops him is Willow carrying out a Thai chicken dish. 

“That’s my plate for my guest, give it here,” Ezra says, holding out his hand.

Willow gives him a weirdly knowing smile and keeps holding the plate, “ _Guest_. You already have a pet name for him, I love that.”

“Stop it, I’m being serious,” Ezra says, “If this is your way of getting my tip money-”

Willow’s expression sours, “I wouldn’t do that and you know it. I’m not allowed to take tips anyway. I just...You guys were so flirty and cute and then you started opening your hearts up to each other-”

“Were you _spying_ on us?” Ezra asks incredulously. 

Willow pouts, “Ezra, there is nothing else better to do. I’m so bored.”

“You are a literal child,” Ezra points out. 

“Yeah, I’m seventeen, you know this,” Willow says slowly, as if Ezra is dumb.

Ezra sputters, “No, I didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, that explains so much, but no. I did not.”

Willow shrugs her shoulders happily and hands Ezra the plate. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t spot you once,” Ezra says more to himself, studying Willow closely as he slowly backs away, before pulling himself out of his ghost infested theories and going back to the table, where Mason is finishing up a text on his phone before putting off to the side when he sees Ezra. 

“Your meal, sir,” Ezra says dramatically, putting the plate down in front of Mason, “Do you need anything else?”

Mason shakes his head, already digging into his food, “No, I’m good. Do you want anything? Really, I don’t mind getting it.”

Ezra starts studying Mason again, watching this nineteen (almost twenty) year old look at him almost hopefully. If Ezra didn’t know any better, he would think Willow was right, that Mason’s hitting on him. But in their now third time of spending time together, Ezra has never once caught Mason checking him out. Mason has never hit on him or even hinted that he has found Ezra or any other guy attractive. Maybe he’s lonely and just wants a friend outside of his frat house buddies. If Ezra was only friends with frat boys, he would be desperate to look elsewhere too.

“I’m on the clock,” Ezra reminds him softly, but glances around to make sure no one is looking before letting himself sit in Mason’s booth momentarily, “While I would love to sit with you and chat with you and get something to eat, I really shouldn’t-”

“A Buddha Bowl for you,” Willow says in a chipper voice, again coming out of _fucking nowhere_ to put it in front of him, along with a glass of water. Mason looks at the bowl with confused amusement, only to say, “And you were making fun of me for being healthy?”

“It’s one of Ezra’s faves from the menu,” Willow reveals to Mason, putting a hand on her hip, “I mean, he tends to stick with the house salad because he’s cheap, but I know he’d rather have this and you would rather have him eat something filling, right? Especially with his second job tonight. He works so hard. He deserves it.”

Mason turns his head to look at Ezra, “You’re working somewhere else tonight too?”

“Does she look translucent to you?” Ezra asks, ignoring Mason’s question to study Willow closely.

Mason glances at Willow in confusion, but before Ezra can explain his completely valid question, Willow does it for him.

“Oh, he has this theory that I’m a ghost because he’s apparently never seen me leave, over half the staff don’t know who he’s talking about when he mentions me, and I allegedly appear out of nowhere,” Willow says, but then puts her hands up, “But he’s not crazy, I swear. I don't like talking to anyone but him and I don't have social media. I really do keep a low profile.”

“Except for right now,” Ezra says, giving her a look that can only be construed as ‘Disappear again, please.’

But Mason looks at Willow almost thoughtfully, “He might be onto something. You did appear out of nowhere. I didn’t even see you walk over.”

“See? Thank you,” Ezra says, picking up a fork, wondering if he should eat the food in front of him, “She’s probably one of those ghosts who doesn’t realize that she’s dead.”

"I feel like I would totally know," Willow says, "If I were a ghost - hypothetically, of course - I feel like I would lure men to their demise at sea. Top tier ghost form, I would strive for it -"

"Can you go lure customers to my section?" Ezra asks, giving her a look when she pouts and begins to practically stomp away. When Ezra turns his head to see if she is on her way to her station up front, she's nowhere to be seen.

Typical.

“See? She’s nowhere,” Ezra points out, but Mason doesn’t seem to be bothered that there might be an actual dead person roaming around the restaurant. 

“So what other job do you work?” Mason asks, cutting another piece off of his chicken breast, “Aren’t you tired when you leave here?”

“Yes,” Ezra admits, “But it’s barely a job and it only goes on from midnight to 3 am. I work down at Nugget Theaters almost every Friday and Saturday night unless I am committed to a show or something. I do the Rocky Horror Picture Show Midnight Screenings there.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Mason says, taking a bite of his meal, “I’ve never seen it.”

Ezra sits back in his seat, “What? You’ve never seen Rocky Horror? It’s a classic!”

“It’s that good, huh?” Mason asks, “Should I order it on Amazon or-”

“Oh, honey, no,” Ezra says, cutting off Mason’s thought process, “You can’t watch it at home unless you have a big group of people. If you watch it alone, then it’s terrible. Truly awful. I mean, it has some catchy songs, but it’s so incredibly bad.”

Mason raises an eyebrow, “I thought you said it was a classic.”

“Look,” Ezra says, deciding to be upfront, “If you want to experience it, you need to tag along and come to the theater. Obviously, you are busy tonight if you ditched some parties to work on a paper. But one of these evenings-”

“I can come tonight.”

Ezra’s persuasive argument comes to a halt and he studies Mason for a few moments, “...You want to come tonight?”

Mason shrugs, giving him a small smile, “Yeah, sure. If it is really that great with an audience. I’m curious now.”

Ezra nods, biting his lip to hold back the smile wanting to appear on his own face, “What about your paper?”

“It’s not due for another two weeks,” Mason says, “I have time to work on it.”

“You have two weeks to get it done and you chose to work on it early during one of the most party filled weekends of the year,” Ezra says slowly, now truly trying to guess Mason’s angle.

Surprisingly, a subtle blush rises to Mason’s face and the younger man dismisses Ezra’s point, “Yeah, well. Like I said, I wasn’t in the mood and felt like I was in the mindset to get some stuff done. So...yeah.”

“Mmhmm,” Ezra says, still watching Mason with intrigue, “ Alright, well I don’t know if you picked the best weekend or not. I’m the emcee tonight. I tend to do that every other weekend. The other times I’m Dr. Frank-N-Furter. So I am truly sorry to say you won’t see me in drag.”

“Damn,” Mason says, grinning, “Maybe I will just have to come next weekend too.”

Ezra lets himself grin as well, “Yeah. Maybe you should. Anyway, I really should finish this and at least look like I’m working.”

“Okay,” Mason says, looking slightly disappointed but maybe Ezra is just imagining things, “Like I said, put it on my bill.”

“I’m not THAT poor, you know,” Ezra lies, but he’s pretty sure he’s convincing enough.

“I’m not trying to imply that,” Mason says, “But you tend to get a bigger tip with a bigger bill, right?”

Ezra takes his bowl and slides out of the booth, “Don’t try to justify it. If you want to spend all of your money on me, I don’t mind. You sticking around and catching a ride with me or do you want to meet me at the theater at midnight?”

“I can stick around,” Mason says, bringing his laptop back over.

“Sounds good to me,” Ezra says, walking away, but then turns around, “Oh, I forgot to mention one thing.”

Mason barely takes his eyes off of Microsoft Word in acknowledgement, “Uh huh, what’s that?”

“I bring all of the Rocky Virgins up front and hold a fake orgasm contest. Just so you know and can be prepared to give it your all.”

Ezra ignores Mason’s calls of, “Wait, what? Ezra, what does that mean?” as he walks away. 

\---------------------------

“I am so proud of you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mason mutters, but Ezra can see him hiding a grin.

“I can’t believe you actually won,” Ezra continues as he drives away from the theater, “You just grew up before my eyes. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“You rigged it,” Mason snorts, looking down at his newly won Rocky Horror t-shirt, “Introducing me like that. You manipulated the audience to make them favor me. It’s actually an impressive marketing tactic.”

Ezra can give him that, “I suppose we have more in common than we initially thought we did.”

“I suppose we do.”

The drive back to the diner is less than ten minutes. But during that drive, they pass several stumbling college kids with their faces painted green and at least two dressed as leprechauns. It’s probably super offensive to Irish people but the Irish part of Ezra is really too tired to give a shit and all of these people would be too drunk to care about offending anyone anyway.

“Oh, look, there’s Tri-Kappa,” Ezra says, glancing across the street, already hearing music blasting within its allegedly prestigious walls, “It looks like you will get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

“I think I might sleep in my car,” Mason mutters, slouching down in his seat as if he doesn’t want to see any of them.

“You know, you confuse me so much,” Ezra says, “Hiding from your brethren like you are right now. Unless you don’t want them to see you riding with me.”

“No,” Mason sighs, sitting back up, “It’s not that. I’m just tired. I had a lot of fun the first year or so, probably too much fun. But with everything happening with my mom leaving my dad, I just haven’t been in the same kind of mood. It’s not about you. I mean, a couple of them questioned me when you stayed over a couple of weeks ago. I guess they saw you leave my room. But that’s whatever.”

The car is silent for a few moments before Ezra clears his throat, “Well, I hope I didn’t cause you to have any problems with them by staying. Regardless of how I feel about fraternity houses, I don’t want to cause you to have problems with your other friends.”

Mason snorts, “The ones who saw you I would barely call friends. I like you a lot better than I like them.”

“Surprisingly honest and sweet of you to say, thank you,” Ezra says, then tries not to think too hard about it before making his offer, “My area is pretty quiet. I share an apartment with two other students, both women. I have a spare toothbrush and some clothes that would probably fit you that you could sleep in if you want a couch to crash on. I work at the restaurant again tomorrow afternoon. I could just take you back to your car then, if you want.”

Mason takes a few moments to mull over the words, “...Your roommates won't mind?”

“Nah, they mainly stay in their rooms or are out of the apartment altogether.”

“And my car won’t get towed?”

“Nope, I can make a call to make sure it will stay put, but your car staying overnight isn’t a problem.”

“...Okay,” Mason says, then glances at Ezra, “If I’m not putting you out.”

Ezra shakes his head, “I wouldn’t have made the offer if I felt like you would be putting me out.”

\------------------

It doesn't take long for Mason to pass out. As soon as they had gotten into the apartment, Ezra went to get everything ready for him and put sheets on the couch while Mason got dressed into spare clothes and brushed his teeth, then had fallen asleep within minutes, leaving Ezra with the freedom to head off to his own room to lie down.

**Hey, Mason is asleep on the couch. Tri-Kappa is doing too much (shocker). Try to be quiet when coming in.**

**Hallie: Didn't hear you come in, yet your text wakes me up? Ugh. But noted. Goodnight**

**Deirdre: The one who let you crash in his room? Coffee Mason?**

**Although that isn't his name, I guess?**

**Deirdre: The one you smile over when he texts you?**

**No, because that isn't a thing.**

**Deirdre: Liar. Don't go to sleep yet. I will be home in 10 minutes!**

Ezra groans and lies down on his bed but forces himself to stay awake regardless. And like clockwork, there is a soft knock on his door ten minutes after Deirdre's last text.

"Come in," Ezra calls out, then lets himself burrow underneath the blankets.

"Hey," Deirdre whispers, tiptoeing in and shutting the door softly, "So you hung out with Mason again?"

Ezra flips over so he is lying on his back and lets out a breath, "It wasn't planned. He came to the diner and requested my section."

"Uh huh," Deirdre says, "Interesting. Go on."

"Um…" Ezra starts, his brain honestly too tired to process all that much, "He offered to buy me a drink and a meal, left me a huge tip that I should probably put back in his pocket, then came with me to Rocky Horror and won the fake orgasm contest I made him do."

"That...Alright, do you like him?"

Ezra looks up at his ceiling, then throws his hands up, not committing to any answer. 

"So that's you at least leaning towards yes," Deirdre says, "But you don't have to tell me either way right now. Just express to me what you are feeling for him in the moment."

"God, you're so pushy," Ezra groans, rubbing his face before sitting up, "Okay, fine. He is really fucking cute and I enjoy spending time with him. A lot. He's very sweet and it made me really happy to see him sitting in that booth. If he was openly not straight, I might give it a shot. Or I might not because I really like being his friend and I don't want to fuck that up. But he hasn't said anything about even being curious and I feel like it would come up by now, considering he knows about me. So he's either truly straight or he's a closet case, but a really nice one."

Deirdre nods, "I mean, maybe he honestly doesn't know how he feels and is still figuring things out, but I definitely think he likes you if he did all that he did today."

"Maybe," Ezra gives her, then lies back down, "But I'm not getting involved with him like that. Last guy I got involved with who was still 'figuring things out' helped beat the shit out of me when his friends figured it out first. Fucking frat boys."

"Tyler was a piece of shit," Deirdre says pointedly, "He deserved to be expelled for what he did to you. You should have told everyone on campus and called Dartmouth out on going against their own discrimination policies in order to take his daddy's money. It doesn't mean Mason will do the same."

Ezra nods slowly, then thinks better of it, "Yeah, I'm not going to risk it. He's becoming a good friend. I'm not going to set myself up for disappointment and heartbreak, whether it's him rejecting me or pulling something like Tyler did."

"From what you've told me, I don't think he'd do that. Not all frat boys are the same and I think Mason is proving that," Deirdre says softly, "But I get where you are coming from." 

Ezra exhales and turns back on his side, "I need to get some rest."

"...Alright. Goodnight."

Deirdre's words sound sad but Ezra doesn't have time to figure out why before she leaves his room and shuts the door behind her.


	3. Early to Mid April 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra takes Mason out for his birthday.

Mason has been asleep for an hour when his bedroom door swings open and he immediately starts hearing a man cheering.

“MASON!” a voice yells, enunciating his name, “Wake up, dude!”

He should have stayed in that girl’s dorm room, as awkward as leaving the next morning might be, especially since they hadn't actually done anything. They made out in her bed but he had taken off before things could go further. So staying there probably would have been out of the question. He should have gone to Ezra’s. He’s already stayed over there a few times because he didn’t want to come here. He’s probably slept better on Ezra’s somewhat lumpy, secondhand (or thirdhand) couch than he ever has in this house.

When Mason feels someone throw himself on his bed, he can see that it’s Ronnie as he forces himself to open his eyes.

“Ronnie, get out of my room,” Mason groans into the pillow, “I’m trying to sleep.”

“Why?” Ronnie asks, rolling around obnoxiously, “It’s only 2 am!”

“UGHHHH,” Mason moans then sits up to glare at the older frat member, “What do you want?”

Ronnie pulls papers out of his pocket, “I wanted to give you an early birthday present. As your honorary big brother, I felt like it was necessary so that you don’t make other plans.”

Mason stares at Ronnie for a moment, then snatches the papers out of his hands. A round trip plane ticket to Mexico, confirmation papers for a hotel room. Pictures of girls in bikinis on Cancun’s beaches. Shocking. 

“What’s this?” Mason asks tiredly, attempting to hand the papers back to Ronnie but Ronnie refuses them.

“Since your birthday is right before break week,” Ronnie says, looking excited, “Tri-Kappa got together and arranged this little adventure for you and the rest of the fraternity. I know your birthday is the 10th, but some people have classes. So we are leaving on the 12th and coming back on the 19th. We sprung for you to have your own room, so you can bring back all of the girls you want, get that dick wet. I know you did tonight, don’t try to hide it, player. How was she? Was she hot?”

“I guess,” Mason says tiredly, but in all honesty? He can’t remember the details, just that he had not, in fact, let his dick 'get wet'. He had been drunk and when he thinks back on it, her face is sort of a blur. He remembers her name though. Kasie...no, Kelly. 

Whatever.

“Anyway, the place looks awesome, man. We usually do Miami for Spring Break but we wanted to do something a little different this year. Grand Oasis Cancun. It’s supposed to be one of the best party hotels. So yeah, we’ll throw something for you here on the day of, but this right here? THIS is where we will be really celebrating,” Ronnie says, then stands up, “Night, dude. Sorry to wake you up, just had to tell you.”

Mason lets out a sigh, then attempts to be nice because Ronnie really isn’t THAT bad, “Thanks, Ronnie. It’s really nice of you to do this. It means a lot. I’m looking forward to it-”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t thank me like I’m your girlfriend giving you a Valentine’s Day gift,” Ronnie says, turning around to back out of the room, “I may have gotten something nice for you but no homo.”

Mason doesn’t even have anything to say to that as Ronnie makes his way out of his room. 

\---------------------------------

“Absolutely not, but I appreciate the invite.”

Mason holds back a groan as Ezra puts the turkey BLT in front of him and picks up his empty water glass.

“I’ll go get you a refill,” Ezra says, but Mason puts a hand on his arm to stop him.

“It will be fun,” Mason tries to tempt him, giving it his all not to beg, “They have given me my own room-”

“Very thoughtful and courteous of them, you should take advantage of that.”

“Which means that you can share it with me,” Mason finishes, “Neither of us will pay anything for it. It’ll be great.”

Ezra gives him a look, one that looks amused but also like he’s studying him, trying to figure out his angle. He’s not going to find much because Mason doesn’t have an angle, unless wanting a friend to come with him on his birthday trip is an angle. Mason personally doesn’t think it is. 

“Honey, you know they got you that room so you can have as many hookups as your dick desires, right? That is why you get a room to yourself. If I bunked with you, I would put a damper on that and you would put a damper on my own potential sexcapades. Where am I supposed to bring any potential guys, girls, or in-betweens, huh?”

Mason feels put off by the statement, by the thought of hooking up with anyone down there but also Ezra hooking up with anyone down there. He has no idea why. It should really concern him, now that he’s thinking about it.

He’s going to stop thinking about it.

“We could obviously take turns with the room,” Mason dismisses and hopes that particular topic is resolved now.

“I would stick out like a sore thumb,” Ezra continues, “Your frat brothers would be whispering amongst themselves about why you brought me-”

“Fuck them, I don’t care. You’re my friend, that’s why,” Mason says hotly, which puts a small smile on Ezra’s face.

“...Be that as it may,” Ezra says after a pause, “I don’t have money to spare for a plane ticket to Cancun. Maybe someday I will, but it is out of the question right now.”

Mason shrugs, “I could get you a ticket. That’s not a problem on my end.”

Ezra gives him a look, “It’s really sweet that you want to spend your dad’s money on me because I know that your twenty hour a week Office of Student Admissions job is not going to pay for it.”

Mason opens his mouth then thinks about what Ezra just said, “...Was that your way of calling me a spoiled rich kid?”

“I would never,” Ezra says, but Mason feels like he’s lying, “Your dad is upper middle class, you insisted on that last week. Now, let me go refill your water and tend to the other guests. It’s the lunch rush right now. My answer on the trip is not going to change. I can’t give up a week’s worth of tips. But if it makes you happy, I am more than willing to do something with you the day of your birthday. I have the evening off.”

Mason lets out a sigh and accepts defeat regarding his goal to get Ezra to come, as well as Ezra’s compromise, “Fine.”

He doesn’t know why he’s so disappointed Ezra won’t go. He really doesn’t. He’s had fun with the guys on trips before. Ezra had not been on those trips and he had been more than fine. 

But he hadn’t known Ezra then. He knows him now and really likes being around him. He’s probably coming off as clingy. He probably shouldn’t have offered the plane ticket. He doesn’t know why he did. He just really likes him.

The conversation between him and Ezra during lunch is minimal after that. Lunchtime really is busy but Ezra works all of his tables like it is nothing. Mason doesn’t even get to give him much of a goodbye after leaving the tip on the table, but does get a text from him a couple of hours after he leaves.

**Ezra: 20% is an appropriate amount to leave, you know. You left more like 50%**

**Mason: Noted. I will leave you a shittier tip next time.**

**Ezra: Whateverrrr. Are you free at like 4 or so on your birthday? I made a call to a friend to arrange something for you**

**Mason: Only for me? That sounds lonely af**

**Ezra: Okay, fine. For us. You free?**

**Mason: Yeah, I’m free. Where do you want to meet?**

\---------------------------------------------

Mason spots Ezra down the hall as soon as he leaves his last class for the day. From what Mason can see, he’s chatting someone up, possibly flirting but Mason can’t be sure. Ezra flirts with a lot of people. He doesn’t know why it makes him stop in his tracks today. It's probably him being selfish and needy or something, subconsciously thinking he is entitled to Ezra's time because it's his birthday. He already knows it's weird so he's just going to go up to him and play dumb.

"Hey, what's up?" Mason asks casually, glancing at the girl Ezra is talking to only briefly. He knows her. Megan. She's in his Principles of Marketing class. She's cute and quiet until she feels the need to make a point that obliterates anyone else's argument with just a few words. And apparently she speaks up when she wants to hit on Ezra and slip him her phone number too. 

"Well, thank you," Ezra smirks, glancing down at his returned phone before pocketing it.

"Text me!" She says over her shoulder, ignoring Mason's appearance completely. As soon as she is down the hall, Ezra turns to him and smiles.

"Happy birthday," Ezra says, before his eyes become ornery, "And apparently happy birthday to me. You know, I have never stepped foot into this building and only got here ten minutes ago, but I've already collected three phone numbers. However, the only one I really REALLY want to know about is Bassett Faucheux. You know him? Cute little French accent, bright smile, thick sandy colored hair, gorgeous blue eyes. Same color eyes as yours, actually. Nice ass too. Also not dissimilar to yours."

Mason only keeps the blush from rising to his face by focusing on what to say about Bassett. Because he does know Bassett. Mason knows him as very kind and outgoing. Extremely gay. Too innocent for his own good, probably. He asked Mason to work on a project with him last semester because he thought Mason might be French going by his first name (he's like a quarter on his mom's side? Not enough for Bassett to go out of his way for). But unlike Mason's experience of other group projects in the past, Bassett was sweet and held up his end of the work the entire time.

"He's okay," Mason says instead, "Kind of full of himself sometimes."

He silently apologizes to Bassett in his head right after he says it because he really has no idea why that came out of his mouth when it isn't true at all.

"Ah well," Ezra says, sighing, "No one is perfect, I suppose. But I feel like that isn't a deal breaker for me. I can also be full of myself occasionally."

“He’s worse, trust me,” Mason insists like the asshole that he is, “So where are we going?”

Ezra puts his arm around him as they begin walking out of the building together, “We, my newest yet possibly most endearing friend, are going on a drive out of state. I thought about blindfolding you from the building all the way to the car and to our destination to make it even more of a surprise. And to make everyone think you are the Anastasia to my Christian. But one: that’s a terrible book series that sends so many wrong messages about BDSM and two: you’re in a frat. Anyone who would see that would probably just think you lost a bet and I joined Tri-Kap to help facilitate your punishment. I’d rather die than ruin my pristine reputation like that.”

“You lost me at Anastasia,” Mason admits, feeling slightly cold when Ezra takes his arm off of him.

“Good,” Ezra says, going to the driver’s side of his car, “I have more respect for you now. Get in. It may be in a different state but it’s literally a twenty minute drive so it won’t take long. It’s time sensitive though.”

The drive itself is relatively quiet. Considering it rained everyday this week, it’s absolutely beautiful outside. Mason watches as they leave the more populated area of New Hampshire, only to hit rural Vermont, and enjoys the way the sun is hitting the grass, wet due to it raining everyday this week. It’s nice out now though, barely sprinkling. 

“Oh, look, a double rainbow!” Ezra says, bending down a little to look up through the windshield, “You know, there’s a corrupted prophecy attached to the Sioux tribes and other tribes in different areas as well about Rainbow warriors and how it symbolizes the union of all people, which _sounds_ nice and if it was actually a prophecy, it probably was originally. However, it was supposedly twisted around by white settlers in order to convert and oppress Native Americans. The more racist retellings of it include how colonization was good for the Native American people and how while they would suffer at first, it would help in the scheme of things because white men would nourish the earth for all people. It was an attempt to subtly get Native people to doubt their own beliefs and become Evangelical and also make white colonization sound like it was ultimately a good thing because it ‘brought people of different races and creeds together’. A lot of people believe that it is just a prophecy about everyone uniting and the earth flourishing, including this hippie group that trashes our forests year after year, but it has a much darker history than that. Very tainted and whatnot."

“So you hate rainbows but it’s for a completely valid reason, got it,” Mason says, “Honestly, I don’t blame you if a twisted around and sinisterly racist prophecy is attached to-”

“But my queer side loves rainbows,” Ezra continues, pulling over to take a picture, “Once June hits, it’s rainbow everything and I embrace it. My dad hates it. Don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t give two shits about who I sleep with. He just wants me to be happy. But he hates it when I am wearing rainbow everything. It sort of triggers him, even though he understands that queer people had nothing to do with all of that. He’ll come to Pride with me if we’re close enough to go together, my mom too. They actually took me to my first one when I was fifteen. But he’d probably rather see me in drag or in a mesh top or something.”

Mason stays seated, Ezra’s words echoing in his mind as his friend gets out of the car to get a better shot. When Ezra gets back in and starts up the car again, Mason opens his mouth and the words that come out are completely unbidden.

“That must be nice,” he says, his voice sounding hoarse, “Your dad being so supportive of you being...whatever you identify as.”

“Pan,” Ezra reminds him softly, “Or queer. More of an umbrella term.”

“Yeah, that,” Mason says, clearing his throat, “Anyway, not everyone has that. You’re lucky. You’re really, really lucky.”

Ezra doesn’t respond for a minute and Mason has to wonder why. But then again, he also has to wonder why he said it. Maybe it’s because an article about Justin came up on Google News. Apparently some rich investor bought one of his huge paintings for a shit ton of money, breaking some record or whatever. As soon as Mason finished reading the article, his dad happened to call to tell him happy birthday. The whole time Mason talked to him, he wondered if his dad had read about his oldest son, if he cared. For years, Mason had been bothered by the lack of relationship with Justin, not only his own disconnection but the way their father just pulled away from him. It never fit with the dad Mason had known and loved. It had been a tidbit about his dad he had to constantly push down. Tidbit. _Tidbit_. What a fucking word when the tidbit deals with his father apparently being homophobic enough to disown his oldest son. His flesh and blood son. But throughout the years, Mason had been so grateful to have Craig Taylor as a dad. He had been grateful for the love, support, and encouragement his dad had given him. His father had adopted him without a second thought because he genuinely loved him - definitely a lot more than Mason’s biological father ever did. So Mason forced himself to focus on the good side. His dad’s relationship with Justin - or lack thereof - has never been and will never be his business. Justin’s never really been around, except for the few times he was with Molly and they awkwardly interacted. Having him not be in Mason’s life helped him ignore what their dad had done. 

But today? It had been almost all he could think about throughout the whole conversation.

“...You okay? You wanna talk?” Ezra asks, reaching over to briefly rub the back of his shoulder, “No judgment or loose lips here. Anything you say will not be repeated.”

It’s not something Mason expected Ezra to say, even though he had been wondering what Ezra was trying to come up with. He doesn’t want to get into his relationship with his dad or Justin or their relationship with each other. He doesn’t want to out his own father as a homophobe when Ezra is queer himself. He doesn’t want Ezra to think less of him for still loving his father immensely because even though Ezra is saying there is no judgment, there might be if he finds out Mason is essentially condoning his father’s views by ignoring them. 

“I just meant that you’re lucky,” Mason says, backtracking, “I’ve seen some other dads react differently. Your parents sound really cool.”

Ezra looks at him from the corner of his eye for a minute, as if he is thinking about pressing Mason further, but lets it go, “Yeah, I really love them. Super supportive people. They’re not perfect, but they really tried their best and always loved me. They support me being queer and have accepted me bringing boyfriends and girlfriends home without even blinking. They accept me wanting to be an actor - which I feel just as many parents are judgmental of. They were really encouraging about college. Not many people in my family have gone. I mean, Mika did but...anyway, when I got into Dartmouth, they freaked out. My dad planned this huge Powwow my last night before moving here, so I would be celebrated for my achievements but ‘not forget my roots’. We turn left up here.”

The car makes the turn and Mason watches out the window as a lake comes into view. On the other side of it, way off in the distance sitting in the field, he can see what looks like -

“Are those hot air balloons?” Mason asks, squinting. 

“Damn,” Ezra says, not taking his eyes off the road and view ahead of him as he smiles, “Maybe I should have blindfolded you after all. No, what I should have done is blindfolded you and have you step in the basket while still blindfolded. I’d let you take it off when we were like ten feet up.”

“I’m really glad you didn’t do it that way,” Mason says, huffing out a laugh, “But this has to be really expensive. I’ve never done it so I don’t know but I bet it’s more expensive than the plane ticket I offered to buy you.”

Ezra shakes his head, “Not costing me one penny other than the gas money to get here.”

Mason looks at Ezra curiously, “How is this not costing you money?”

“Like I said,” Ezra says as he pulls into a small lot, turns off the car, and takes off his seatbelt, “The person who does this is a friend. I worked at her house from the time I moved here up until last fall. Normally, it would cost 1300 dollars for a private, two person flight-”

“1300 dollars?!”

“But she’s giving it to us for nothing, so…” Ezra shrugs as he trails off, then reaches over to pat his knee, “You ready?”

The two of them walk a ways over to the field, where a petite brunette woman is standing and preparing one of the balloons. 

"Samantha!" Ezra calls out, waving as soon as the woman turns around. The woman gives Ezra a wide grin, waves enthusiastically, then checks the ropes before walking over to meet them part way. As she gets closer, Mason can see she's likely in her forties. She has light grey eyes with subtle crows feet appearing with her smile and porcelain skin. Her expression is kind and sweet and she's obviously very fond of Ezra.

"Ezra! Oh, I've missed you," Samantha says fondly, bringing Ezra into a maternal hug before patting his face, "How have you been?" 

"I've been okay," Ezra says, looking down at her with a small smile, "Just bringing this one here for his birthday."

"Oh, yeah?" Samantha asks, glancing at Mason curiously, "And how old is _this one_?"

"He's only twenty," Ezra informs her, glancing over at Mason as well, "So if I give him a glass of champagne or two, turn your head in the other direction." 

"Play dumb, got it," Samantha says before turning to Mason fully and holding out her hand, "I'm Samantha. It's very nice to meet you. Your name is Mason, right?" 

"That would be me," Mason confirms, shaking her hand, "It's nice to meet you too."

“So,” Samantha starts, then looks around, “My last flight of the day just left and I am dedicating my entire evening to you boys. If you’re a friend of Ezra’s then you’re a friend of mine and I want you to have the best birthday you could ask for. Have you ever done this?”

“No, never,” Mason tells her, looking at the balloon behind her, “I didn’t even know this is what we were doing until a few minutes ago.”

Samantha tsks and gives Ezra a look, "What if you had scared him off, huh? You wouldn’t get in a balloon for the first six months you worked here.”

“But that’s _me_ ,” Ezra says, putting a hand to his chest, “Ever so cautious. This one is wild. He’s a frat boy. They aren’t scared of anything except for being in touch with their emotions. And their feminine side. And-”

“I don’t even need to know the third thing because I can tell that he’s different,” Samantha says, smiling at Mason again, “Now, come on. Let’s go sign some waivers so your families can’t sue me if you die.”

“My parents can’t afford anything like that,” Ezra shrugs as they walk along the field, “If you broke the news, they would probably ask you what I did to make it happen. Better have Mason sign though. His dad’s rich.”

“Upper middle class,” Mason reminds him, giving Ezra a pointed look when the older man glances at him teasingly, “Seriously, I’m not that rich.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m not.”

“Are you sure-”

“Boys,” Samantha chides, then opens the door to a small cabin, seeming to only contain a living area, front desk, and a bathroom. Mason scrolls down through the iPad, all while Ezra commends her for going digital, and signs every place the document program prompts him too, essentially signing away any funds his parents may get if he falls out of the basket or if it crashes. Good. His mom would probably get it anyway and it’s not like Mason is all that close with her at the moment. He’d rather have Molly get the money, if anything.

But he isn’t going to die. He won’t. There’s no point in thinking about it anyway.

"Alright, first thing's first," Samantha says, leading them back outside, "No leaning out of the basket. Don't touch the ropes, burners, or gas cylinders. If for some unlikely reason an emergency occurs, do not panic. Just listen to what I say and follow my directives. Are we clear?"

"Yeah, of course," Mason says, looking at the prepped rainbow colored balloon with only a small amount of hesitation.

"Good," Samantha nods, then looks at Ezra, "I expect an answer out of you too."

Ezra scoffs, "You know I know your rules."

But Samantha waits for Ezra's response and Mason watches in amusement and Ezra lets out a sigh.

"Fine. I won't touch anything or hang out of the basket like I'm on the monkey bars. If you absolutely insist."

Samantha rolls her eyes, then gestures towards the balloon, "Well? Men first!"

"I don't know if that's as progressive as you think it is," Ezra says, but walks into the basket as Mason follows closely behind. 

Mason had honestly thought he wasn't that freaked out by the idea of going high up in a basket attached to a large balloon. He doesn't feel fear when Samantha is untying the ropes or when she raises the fuel level but as soon as they begin to rise, Mason realizes that he is _standing_ in a fucking wicker basket that is floating up into the sky. He tries to keep his cool and he feels like he's mostly succeeding but apparently he isn't because Ezra puts an arm around Mason's waist to steady him.

"You're alright," Ezra says into his ear, causing Mason to exhale, "Don't focus on looking down right now, just focus on looking out. It's pretty, right? I mean, it's no linoleum shower wall but I feel like it could give you a little bit of inspiration, cause some sort of creative spark."

Mason has to laugh at that and finds himself leaning into Ezra's touch because it feels comforting and safe. Ezra seems to sense that and also seems to sense when it's safe to lead Mason closer to the edge of the basket to get a better look. With Ezra's hand still barely touching his back, Mason can see that his friend is right. It really is beautiful. The feeling of initial fear turns to a feeling of absolute awe as they fly over fields, hills, trees, and streets that look small beneath them. As the sun begins to set, Samantha opens a bottle of champagne for them - since it is apparently a part of the experience - and they drink just enough to feel buzzed and talk happily amongst themselves as they keep watching the view around them. At twilight, they finally begin to land, slowly floating down on the center of the lake and gently gliding across the water until they are on solid ground.

"I need to pee!" Ezra suddenly says, breaking the magical moment completely as he hops out of the basket and jogs over towards the cabin office. 

"Champagne has always done that to him," Samantha says, watching Ezra's form disappear into the cabin with amusement.

"That's actually the first time we have ever had a drink together," Mason says, surprised by the thought, "He was my DD the first time we met over a month ago and and that's the only time alcohol has been around any of the times we've been in the same room."

Samantha nods, "He's always been very responsible. I mean, you wouldn't think that from him as a first impression since he's so fun, spontaneous, and sassy. That mouth has gotten him into trouble before. But he's very trustworthy and reliable. Such a hard worker. Extremely driven. And he's so kind. He would put his life on hold for you if you needed him. After what he did for me? My wife? I want him to have the world. Especially after what he went through before he moved here, that poor boy."

Mason feels his heart inexplicably sink at the words and it's taking everything within him not to ask or pry. It wouldn't come out of nowhere. Samantha is the one bringing it up. But Samantha seems to think he already knows. 

"I miss having him here," she admits, "He took care of my wife during the day while I did flights, then would go to classes, rehearsals, and shows in the evenings. He fed her, changed her, bathed her, read to her. Those last few months were rough. The cancer affected her brain so much that she was unrecognizable to me. She didn't have the strength to move and she lost most of her language and her motor skills went to shit. It was so hard for me to watch her go downhill like that, but Ezra just took it in stride. He showed her love, care, and respect up until the very end. He even sat with me as she died."

"...I'm sorry," Mason says softly, looking down at his feet as Samantha waves him off. 

"I didn't mean to get into all of that," she sniffles, wiping at her face, "I'm at peace with it. Her passing devastated me but it was a long time coming and I am happy she is no longer in pain. I'm just...I'm very, VERY happy that he found you and brought you here. I'm glad he has found someone special. Not a fling or a one off, but someone he cares so much about that he'd do this for. I'm glad he has someone who I hope will care for him like he does the people around him. He's a keeper. Don't let him go. Promise me."

Mason can't even correct her and let her know that he and Ezra are just friends. His whole brain is frozen. He doesn't know why at all. It should be easy to say that Ezra is just a friend - a kind and thoughtful friend and a friend that Mason really likes being around more than any of his other friends, but ultimately just a friend. But for some reason, it won't come out. While the thought of saying it doesn't feel like a lie, the words feel disappointing. Maybe it's the hopeful look on Samantha's face. Maybe he's afraid of disappointing her and her hopes for Ezra to find someone special to him. 

"I promise," Mason says instead and how the fuck will he explain that to Ezra, especially when his friend is coming out of the cabin right now? What if Samantha says something to Ezra while Mason is standing here and Ezra finds out that he just went along with it instead of correcting her? He wants to sink through the ground before that happens. 

"You need to go?" Ezra asks, then looks put off when Mason shakes his head no, "I don't get why champagne only does that to me. It's not fair."

"You boys good to drive?" Samantha asks as they walk back towards the car.

"Yeah, we're good," Ezra says before turning back around to give Samantha one last hug, "Thanks again for doing this."

"Anything for you," Samantha says, squeezing Ezra tighter, then whispers something in his ear that has him looking at her incredulously before glancing over at Mason with what looks like a humored curiosity. It makes Mason want to run back over to the balloons and fly off.

"Uh huh," Ezra says, looking like he's trying not to laugh, "Well, I'm glad to hear that I'm so valued by you both. _Babe_ , do you want to thank Samantha before we head off?"

It takes Mason a second to respond, because he doesn't even realize Ezra is talking to him until he sees both of them staring at him - Samantha with what seems like confusion and Ezra with what seems like pure smugness. 

"Thank you so much," Mason says, letting Samantha wrap him into a hug as he doesn't take his eyes off of Ezra once, "It was probably the best birthday gift I've ever gotten." 

"Well, he's more to thank than I am," Samantha says gesturing towards Ezra, "But I was happy to help out. Get home safe. Both of you. And if there is more celebrating, be safe the _entire night_."

"...Mmhmm," Mason manages to get out before Samantha turns around to walk back towards the property. Ezra laughs all the way to the car.

\--------------

"You have been laughing the last five minutes," Mason says, his face feeling hot as he covers it with his hands while Ezra drives, "It's really not that funny."

To give Ezra a little bit of credit, he straightens out his expression for a solid seven seconds before dissolving into giggles again.

"I'm sorry, I just think it's funny you didn't have the guts to correct her, even after she implied to use a condom," Ezra gets out, "What's the worst thing that would have happened?"

Mason throws his hands up, "I don't know! I just didn't want to make things awkward or disappoint her after she talked about you taking care of her dead wife and how much you deserved to be loved or whatever!"

"Hmm," Ezra says, then shrugs, "Well, it could be worse. I guess you will just have to be my date to all of her monthly LGBTQ luncheons. They're _very_ romantic. Picnics by the lake before flying off into the sunset-"

"That is literally what we did today," Mason points out. 

"No, no we did not," Ezra says shaking a finger, "We did _not_ have a picnic. I should know. I'm starving. Also, we landed _in_ the lake, but only because I wanted to see if you'd get freaked out."

"Well, I didn't," Mason mumbles, "That was actually my favorite part."

Mason stares at the dashboard and waits for Ezra to respond, only to get nothing. When he does risk a glance, he sees Ezra smiling softly as he watches the road. When Ezra catches Mason looking at him, he clears his throat. 

"Seriously though, are you hungry? You have plans or do you want to get something to eat?" Ezra asks, finally moving past the whole being a couple thing. In all honesty, he technically does have plans. Tri-Kap wants to throw some kind of party for him, not that it takes much to get them to throw a party. But Mason already knows that Ezra will probably not want to go. Maybe he would, because it's Mason's actual birthday and it won't cost him a week's worth of work. But honestly? Spending time with Ezra - even while getting over some residual embarrassment - sounds a lot more preferable than going back to the Tri-Kap house.

"I can eat," Mason says, getting out his phone, "Where do you want to go?"

Ezra shrugs, "You pick. It's your birthday. Just anywhere but Molly's."

"Do you…" Mason starts, suddenly feeling a little nervous, "Do you want to get something around here? Or maybe go on a drive or something?"

Ezra, for some reason or another, looks slightly nervous too. It's as if he's feeling the inexplicable tension Mason is feeling. It's not a _bad_ tension but Mason doesn't know how to describe it. It doesn't make him feel like he needs to get away from Ezra. In fact, it makes him want to keep him close. Mason doesn't think he's ever had a friend like that, one that he wants to spend the majority of his time with. He doesn't think he's even had a girlfriend where he has wanted that. He's known him for a month, but Ezra's presence is comforting and warm and it makes Mason feel-

"Yeah, I'd like that," Ezra says, his expression gentle and sweet, "Find the weirdest restaurant in a 20 mile radius and we'll go there."

"The weirdest?" Mason repeats, "What if it has really bad reviews?"

"Oh well."

"Or it's super expensive?"

"Bring it," Ezra says confidently, "I made some great tips last night. I can pay for us both."

"You don't have to do that," Mason says quietly, "I'm serious. You don't have to."

But Ezra just shrugs, "I want to. It's your birthday. And besides, as your fake boyfriend, it should be an expectation. A thank you for _never letting me go_."

Mason lets out a sigh, "I wondered how long it was going to take you to bring that back around." 

The drive doesn't end up being too long at all. Within the general area, they go to a place in the middle of the woods called Chef Brad's CrazySide that has good reviews and only two dollar signs. They end up sitting in a whimsically painted bus parked off to the side of the main restaurant building, next to each other rather than across from each other since that is all that the seating on the bus allows.

"Well…" Ezra says on Mason's left, looking around the empty bus, "This _is_ weird."

"It was one of your requests," Mason points out, "I guess we could have waited for one of the tables inside but-"

"It would have been less weird," Ezra finishes, "I prefer the bus anyway. It's like we rented it for ourselves. Or like we're being held captive by a woodsy cannibal who wants to feed us human meat. Either way, I am digging the vibe." 

"Good. I'm glad," Mason says, opening the menu put in front of him, "I'm digging it too."

Ezra insists on him getting whatever he wants so Mason gets the chicken piccata while Ezra gets the pasta primavera. While Mason is initially worried that they will be forgotten as the sole people sitting in the bus, their food comes relatively quickly. Despite that, they take their time eating it, opting to use their mouths more to talk instead. It's easy talking to Ezra. Mason has never had the easiest time talking. He supposes that he talked to Molly sometimes when he needed to. Hazel too, since she had always been around as Molly's closest friend. As for Mason talking to his own friends though? He had been relatively popular and liked enough. He grew up having a lot of friends, although he didn't have a girlfriend outside of a few dates and makeout sessions until he was seventeen and dated Tia his whole senior year. He never got super close to any of them, not enough to really miss them or think about them at length when they weren't around. Kai was his closest friend growing up. Kai had also been his first kiss, weirdly enough. That's probably weird - Mason knows it's weird - but Kai had been struggling with whether or not he was gay, asked Mason if he could, and it honestly was not a bad first kiss at all. They stayed good friends throughout high school but they haven’t talked quite as much since Mason moved away for college. So maybe Ezra is different because he's never had a best friend until now? Would it be weird to call Ezra his best friend this soon? It's not like he's going to _tell_ Ezra that or anyone else but it would be nice to know why he feels the way he does around him. 

But Mason decides that his silent analysis on the matter will need to wait. The sounds of drums and ukuleles cut through his thoughts pretty quickly anyway.

"You didn't," Mason says as a group of misfit waiters come into the bus.

"Of course I did. Free dessert is always a good thing," Ezra says, bumping Mason's shoulder as the group sings happy birthday enthusiastically before putting a brownie dessert with two scoops of ice cream and two spoons in front of him. 

"So, as a fellow performer - and I guess as a fellow waiter - how would you rate their performance?" Mason asks once the waiters leave and Ezra grabs one of the spoons. Ezra chooses to take a bite of the dessert before giving his answer.

"...They tried," Ezra says, causing Mason to bark out a laugh, "I mean that as a compliment! Some waiters will roll their eyes throughout the whole song or act embarrassed. I'll stand up on a table and belt it out, I don't mind."

"That is surprisingly easy to imagine," Mason says, "Although, I haven't heard your singing voice. I thought I would when you told me Rocky had catchy songs but you all lip sync with the movie there-”

“An annoying tradition that undermines my talent, I agree,” Ezra says.

Mason smiles a little before getting back on topic, “Agreed. It also leaves a lot to the imagination when it comes to your musical talent-"

"Are you trying to get me to sing for you?" Ezra asks, before taking the other spoon to scoop up some ice cream and brownie and putting it to Mason's mouth. 

"It is my birthday," Mason points out as Ezra looks as if he's weighing the pros and cons. 

"...Nah," Ezra says, then grins, "It's too appropriate of a time. I'll sing to you when you least expect it."

Mason tilts his head, "That sounds vaguely threatening, but okay."

But Ezra just continues to smile, picks up Mason's spoon, and holds it out for him, "Eat your food, Mason. You're twenty now. Seriously, eat it before I finish it."

\--------------------

They arrive in front of the Tri-Kap house too soon. Throughout dinner and on the way back, Mason has apparently received texts from a few of the frat brothers in a group text asking where he's been. 

**Dude, we rented a few strippers and got a keg. Where are you?**

**Are you hooking up with someone again? Is she hot? You are only forgiven if she is hot.**

**You doing something with your family? Are they in? If so, your sister is invited to come too.**

**SO invited. She's so fucking hot.**

**Please bring your sister to Tri-Kap. We miss her.**

Mason is just about to text 'She literally hates all of you and so do I' before Ezra interrupts his irritation.

"We're here," Ezra says, putting the car in park across the street from the frat house, "Go have fun."

"I don't want to," Mason absolutely does not groan as Ezra lets out a laugh of surprise. 

"You are the most sorry excuse for a frat boy I have ever met in my life," Ezra says, giving him a once over.

Mason meets his eyes, "Thank you. I know that's a compliment coming from you."

Ezra purses his lips, holding back any further laughter, "Yeah, you're right." 

It's silent for a moment, just a moment where their eyes lock and they say nothing. It feels both tense and comforting. Anticipatory and pressureless. It's a moment that's all over the spectrum and Mason doesn't know what to feel. 

"...You want to come in?" Mason asks softly, hoping it will be a yes, even if they just ditch everyone and go hang up in his room. He’s not going to put that out there though. He actually does want Ezra to come in, so he’s honest, "Apparently they rented strippers."

Ezra seems humored by Mason's attempt but shakes his head, almost apologetically, "I don't have the best reputation with fraternities. Don't get me wrong, I have no personal issues with Tri-Kappa in particular but I'm sure some of the upperclassmen in your fraternity know what happened the last time I brushed more than elbows with someone in a frat."

Mason frowns, "What is that supposed to mean? What happened?"

Ezra lets out a breath, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?" Mason asks as he turns in his seat to get a better look at Ezra, feeling more concerned now.

Ezra groans, then turns his head to meet Mason’s eyes again, “Later, Mason. Alright? Not tonight. Today’s focus should be on you. I’m not going to ruin it with some fucked up shit that happened before you even got here.”

“You’ve made all fucking day about me,” Mason points out, putting a hand on Ezra’s arm when he looks away, “And you also try to get me to talk about my shit on a regular basis so you’re being a real hypocrite right now.”

The corner of Ezra’s mouth quirks up, as if he can’t deny it. Probably because he can’t. Then slowly, he takes his left hand, reaches over, and puts it on top of the hand Mason still has on Ezra’s arm. They’re locked in that stare again, the one that makes Mason start to lose focus on the stuff around him. 

“Like I said,” Ezra finally says softly, breaking the silence as the two of them sit in the dark car, “Not tonight. Maybe one day when we both have an evening and the following morning off so I can actually have time to get drunk and sleep it off.”

“So, like six months from now,” Mason scoffs and Ezra just shrugs in response and rubs Mason’s hand briefly before reaching behind his seat.

“I got you a present,” Ezra says, letting out a soft grunt as he feels around in the back before coming up with a small gift bag and handing it to him.

“You didn’t have to get me anything else,” Mason says, feeling slightly stressed over the thought of Ezra spending money he doesn’t have on him. 

“Well,” Ezra starts, eying the bag, “As you can see, the gift is really small. I didn’t plan on buying you anything but I saw it and immediately thought of you. So, yeah. You should open it.”

Mason breathes out through his nose and takes the paper out of the gift bag before pulling out a thin box.

“Aqua Notes,” Mason reads, then looks at the picture and snorts, “Is this a waterproof notepad for the shower?”

“Wouldn’t want you to forget your best ideas,” Ezra says, giving him a fond look, “Because I really do want to read them when you have them fleshed out.”

Mason looks down at the box and bites back a grin, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, what are friends for?” Ezra says, then looks back through his windshield at the house, “Buying sentimental gifts, renting strippers. You really do have the best of both worlds tonight.”

“I really don’t want to go in there,” Mason says. And it’s the truth. He doesn’t. But saying it - as simple as it is - feels like a huge admission. Of what? He doesn’t know. It just feels big. 

“It’s one night,” Ezra reminds him, “Followed by a full week starting Saturday. But at least you’ll have a room to yourself.”

“...Are you sure you can’t go?” Mason asks quietly. Ezra watches him for a moment, then gently reaches out and touches his cheek. If it were anyone else, Mason would probably flinch back. But with Ezra, he doesn’t.

“I’ll see you when you get back.”

\------------------------------------------

Cancun is beautiful. It has beautiful beaches and gigantic pools that Mason sits in front of hours on end. He’s grateful he has the opportunity to go. But none of its beauty beats standing in the basket of a hot air balloon with Ezra. The guys end up getting to him enough that Mason finally brings a girl back to his hotel room for the first one night stand that he's ever had. It isn't the worst thing he's ever gone though and the girl in question is sweet, he doesn’t have as much fun with her as he did in Vermont with his best friend. His best friend is actually all he can think of that night. Because that's what Ezra is. His best friend. That's what Ezra has to be for Mason to feel so strongly towards him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


	4. Late May 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mason advocates for Ezra's play.

Ezra really wants to punch something. He doesn't think he's punched a wall since Mika's body was discovered. That had been a few days after his high school graduation. It’s not the greatest time to have a huge family tragedy. It subsequently caused him to become a hot mess and take a gap year. The gap year had been useful in the scheme of things. He had been needed at home and cared for Uncle Chaska, especially after Aunt Una died as well. It had been overwhelming to take on that role and live there with his grieving, guilt stricken, and significantly brain damaged uncle, but he had gotten a six week break from that when a pre-production team wanted to cast locals in an independent movie. He had gotten cast in the lead role and his mom moved their uncle in with them. The pay wasn't amazing and they have yet to release it, but it had given him professional experience. It also gave him an idea of how much art can be censored. The reason the movie was never released was because it focused on a kid who is molested by his neighbor and grows up to be a gay teenage prostitute. It had been a very raw, upsetting, and explicit movie, complete with a brutal rape scene that Ezra’s character was the victim of. Pair that up with the gayness of it all? The production company put the project on an indefinite hold in regards to its release and ended up closing completely a couple of years ago, selling off the rights to all of their unreleased projects to other companies. Ezra has no clue who owns the rights to that movie anymore. He’ll probably find out about its release when it hits the few theaters that will take it, if that ever happens.

But he’s come to terms with that project probably never seeing the light of day. Now that he's being censored again? He’s not fucking happy.

“They want to put all of their fall budget into South Pacific!” Ezra rants, all while Mason patiently sits on his couch and watches Ezra pace, “South. Pacific. Do you know what South Pacific is-”

“I know what South Pacific is,” Mason cuts in calmly as Ezra groans dramatically.

“It’s an overrated piece of shit with a terrible second act!” Ezra continues, “THAT’S what it is. And it’s not an original student production AT ALL. When I pointed out that they should be promoting student work over established productions, they said that this would bring in more money from outside the college. When I pointed out that new plays would be more widely shared on social media by those who do see it, they said that our play was ‘too provocative’ for the college.”

“You do have a couple of sex scenes in it,” Mason points out, wincing when Ezra sends him a death glare. 

“Oh, gotcha mhmm. Thanks for letting me know why it was denied. I had NO idea,” Ezra says sarcastically, “I guess I was misled when fucking Josiah Jorggesson got his no homo sausage fest of a play approved - which had more sex scenes than mine, but since those scenes were one hundred percent heterosexual, they were completely fine!”

Mason nods thoughtfully, “Well, I never saw the no homo sausage fest you are referring to-”

“You missed nothing,” Ezra dismisses and he can see Mason hold back a smile. 

“I’m sure you’re right,” Mason says, “I’m sure it isn’t even comparable to your play because as someone who has read it twice now, I can tell you that it’s really fucking good.”

Ezra lets himself stop pacing long enough to look at Mason tenderly, “You really read it twice?”

Mason nods, smiling softly before clearing his throat, “Anyway, sex scenes or no, I think it’s bullshit that the school isn’t funding a student written play. And if there is something even mildly homophobic going on, there are organizations we can talk to, both about that and about outside grants.”

Ezra lets out a sigh, “I probably can’t prove the homophobia. They DID okay Angels in America.”

“Also an established play,” Mason says, then shrugs as he stands up, “But if they had been willing to take a chance on the no homo sausage fest and not on yours on the basis of sexual content? It’s definitely an argument that can be made. And even if it can’t, we can still market the play and generate enough interest to secure the funding, whether it comes from the school or not. Personally, I think you should hold it in a community theater, let it become a huge success, and make Dartmouth regret their decision for years, especially when news breaks that they rejected it hypocritically at best and homophobically at worst.”

For the first time today, Ezra feels like grinning, but he forces himself to hold it back as he shakes his head, “You act like the cultural trust organizations are going to just throw grants at me for this. If my own college won’t say yes, then I doubt -”

“Oh, I’ll get them to approve the grants. Dartmouth too,” Mason says, then just walks out of Ezra’s apartment without another word, apparently like the alpha male Ezra never knew he could be. 

He pushes down the arousal that stems from Mason’s abrupt departure and starts researching.

\-----------------

"He literally has charts and statistics," Yas says, looking impressed and amused as they both watch Mason set everything on the table in the back of the library, "What the fuck did you say to him to get him to help?"

"Nothing," Ezra says, trying to think back on the exchange, "I mean, he came over when I called him upset, watched me rant for a solid twenty minutes, then said he would get us grants and just left."

Yas stares at Ezra for a moment, her expression intrigued and scrutinizing, before turning that gaze towards Mason, then back again at Ezra, then back again at Mason, then back again at Ezra, then back again at-

"What?" Ezra finally asks, pulling Yas out of whatever was going on in her brain.

"...Are you guys uh…" Yas starts, then glances at Mason again, "Is there something going on between the two of you?"

Ezra rolls his eyes. It's far from the first time he's been asked so it really isn't all that shocking that Yas - their sole mutual friend from before they met - is asking too. Honestly, he's surprised she's only asking now.

"Other than our everlasting friendship?" Ezra asks, feigning innocence as Yas looks at him in exasperation.

"You know what I am asking you," Yas says, glancing at Mason again, "You might not know this, but Mason is very good at this shit. He got Dartmouth to completely restructure their funding last year. He researched and investigated everything, then correlated the increase of unnecessary expenses from the dean and the higher up administration as well as the huge and ridiculous bump in their salaries to the unfair increases in tuition as well as the lack of tenured employment for newer professors. He basically put them all on the spot and it caused them to change everything as well as take pay cuts so that newer professors could be employed full-time. He also called them out on the inadequate funding and resources for some departments versus others. That's why the budget for the theater department increased so much last year. The work that he did is also why your scholarship amount likely covers your full tuition again, instead of staying the same while the tuition amount increased so much." 

Ezra sputters and look at Mason too, "What? Wait, _what_? And he did all of that why?"

"I dunno," Yas says, shrugging, "From my understanding, he had an economics class that assigned the students a project to research a company or organization of their choice and their expenditure. Mason apparently chose Dartmouth itself, saw some shady shit, then took it too far but it worked out. He really put his neck on the line by investigating them like that. He was just a freshman. I bet the only reason he didn't subtly get expelled out of spite and is still here is because he makes straight As, is good at lacrosse, and his dad is an alumni."

Ezra nods, bewildered and inexplicably turned on _again_ , "Well, I doubt it is for an assignment. He is taking a summer class online but it's a class on Culture and Identity."

"Oh, so you know what class he is taking," Yas observes.

Ezra rolls his eyes, "There are much deeper things to discover about a person. I only know because he asked me for my input on reservations and how it personally shaped me as a person. It is the topic for his paper." 

"He literally wrote a paper about you, huh," Yas says, seeming more fueled and Ezra shakes his head.

"It was not about me specifically," Ezra says, then gets back on topic, "I am just saying that he's not doing this for a class."

"Exactly," Yas says, glancing back over at Mason, as if she's making sure he isn't listening, "If he isn't doing it for a class, then why is he literally making charts and taking all of this time and energy to make this happen when he isn't even a part of the theater program, let alone your play?"

Ezra watches Mason as well, feeling his heart beat faster, but then he thinks about it more and begins to laugh, "Probably so I would stop bitching."

"Uh huh," Yas says dubiously, then studies Ezra carefully, "Well, you know what I think? I think that you have yet to actually deny that something is going on and that leads me to believe-"

"Alright, everything is set up," Mason says, coming over to the armchairs.

Ezra gestures across the room at the table, "How long is this presentation going to be? What exactly did you come up with?"

"The budget for the theater department every year for the last twenty years, the increase of that budget and how it can be allocated-"

"An increase that you caused, I just learned," Ezra says, giving him a once over, "So I guess I have you to thank for my scholarships suddenly covering my entire tuition again and not needing to drop out last fall?"

"I don't know anything about that," Mason dismisses, "But what I do know a ton about right now is LGBTQ art and media consumption, lack of representation, and that while the last LGBTQ play attracted a slightly smaller student attendance, it attracted more people outside of Dartmouth than any other play in the last five years. It was also more heavily reviewed by outside media sources - positively so. And before you start arguing that they may try to point out that they want a higher student attendance at the plays, Angels in America was less advertised on the campus as a whole. It relied solely on student raised funds from the LGBTQIA alliance without a Dartmouth grant too. And also? Dartmouth didn't even put it on their website to spread the word like it has for the non-LGBTQ plays put on by the students at the university. And if you guys would come over to the table already, I can show you how many student written plays have been denied, ones that just _happen_ to have characters identifying as something other than straight and these have consistently been denied for the last fifteen years despite having a high percentage of LGBTQ students in the theater program and LGBTQ identifying adjunct professors, yet straight department heads, including Professor Johnson. Professor Johnson was the headmaster of Midland Disciple Academy from 1985 to 1990, before getting his PhD to teach higher education and eventually becoming the head of the theater department in 1999. But Midland Disciple Academy not only reportedly bans gay children from their schools, it also bans the admission of children being raised by gay parents. Honestly, I’m surprised you even got Angels in America approved considering his history. Maybe he didn’t read it and thought it was more Christian than gay.”

Ezra opens his mouth to try to unpack at least some of the things Mason just threw at him - or at least lighten Mason's mood, make him more Masony again. Because this? This is a side of Mason he hasn't seen. Ezra doesn't even know where to start. All he knows is that he's impressed and sort of in awe of Mason and it's doing things to him that need to be repressed once more. 

But he does want to see if Mason can pull something amazing off. Ezra has his doubts - he's learned to expect the worst - but Mason looks so sure of himself and Ezra doesn't think all of it comes from likely being a spoiled rich kid. 

"Alright, professor, bring that lecture on," Ezra says, rubbing his hands together as he stands up and follows Mason over to the table. 

The following hour is a fucking eye opener. Basically top tier investigative journalism. Holy. Shit.

\-----------------------

"Uh…" Professor Johnson starts after Mason calls him the fuck out for twenty minutes. Ezra doesn't even have to _do_ anything. He just has to sit there and watch Mason tear into the guy in the most intellectual, informed, and charismatic way possible. Ezra doesn’t think he would want to spend twenty minutes any other way. Watching this is as good as some of his best orgasms, possibly better. 

“You’re um…” Professor Johnson says, stumbling over his speech as he flips through some papers nervously. Ezra could swear he sees sweat dripping off the guy’s forehead, “While your research and concern is appreciated, you aren’t even in the theater program so I’m don’t think that-”

“My concern is valid?” Mason asks, finishing the man’s sentence before giving him a pitying glance, “Actually, I think it makes it more valid. If I can see the injustice and inevitable lawsuit this denial can cause, then I’m sure that your students can see it, not to mention advocacy groups. And there will be several after you. Because not only are you denying the work of a student who is queer himself, but he’s Native American too. Don’t you feel oppressed, Ezra?”

“I feel pretty oppressed,” Ezra agrees, biting back laughter as Professor Johnson’s visible discomfort continues to grow.

“Well…” Professor Johnson starts, scrambling for some kind of point apparently, “Well, I’ll have you know that Dartmouth has accepted more Native Americans than any other Ivy League. They make up four percent of our student population!”

Mason stares at Professor Johnson for a moment, then smiles calmly, “Wow. Four percent. There are more left handers on campus than that.”

“Well, not...not everyone…there aren’t that many of them! They’re a minority!” Professor Johnson says.

Ezra squints at Professor Johnson and tilts his head, “Do I need to remind you _why_ we’re a minority?”

Professor Johnson has nothing to say to that. First time for everything, Ezra supposes. He has to give him a little credit. At least Professor Johnson is talking. Believe it or not, he is not the only head professor in the room. Professor Ulrich and Professor Jameson are both in the room as well but they have been completely silent since Mason finished his slideshow.

“Look, regardless of whether you denied him for discriminatory reasons or not - and going by your history, it’s likely that you did,” Mason says, holding up a hand when Professor Johnson tries to speak, “You have denied your most prominent actor in the program. He was the recipient of the David Birney Award this May and he also won a New England’s Playwriting Competition this past January. He won that award with the same script he presented to you. If the script that won such an accolade is not worthy of being held at this school, then one has to wonder why. And when that denial really doesn’t make sense at all the more you think about it, you have to wonder if it deals with the person who wrote it and what they did to get rejected. Ezra is the best actor you have in your program. Any play with his name attached to it gets a lot more attention from the press. Every single sold out play held at Dartmouth since Ezra became a student has him in a prominent role. As for the plays he’s been in that you _don’t_ fairly advertise, they still end up attracting a bigger crowd than some of the plays you put on blast. He has proven to be an excellent playwright. He is also an extremely hard worker who works his ass off just to survive. So which part of him do you not like?”

Professor Johnson takes a few deep calming breaths, then puts his hands down on the table, “...Look, I understand your confusion on the decision. But the fact is that the play has a couple of sexually provocative scenes and themes that can’t be ignored.”

“Right, right, the sex stuff,” Mason nods, then pulls out Ezra’s script, “I’ve read it a few times now and it deals with the sexual shame of a closeted lesbian stemming from the views held by her family and community, followed by her awakening, acceptance, and freedom when she learns to love herself and break free of what she was raised to believe. She has three scenes that may arguably fade to black a little late. That being said, the three scenes in question provide an artistic contrast from one another. The first is when she experiments with her best friend who is curious but ultimately attracted to men. The second is with a boyfriend she feels pressured to date, and the third is with a young woman who is falling in love with her.”

Mason puts Ezra’s script down and holds up another script, “Now here is Josiah Jorgesson’s ‘Three Guys and a Broad’. In this play, the fade to black scenes come a little too late as well. Those scenes consist of the Leanna character hooking up with each of the three male characters, complete with thrusting on stage. It also has a gang bang sequence where they all decide to take turns while she is drunk but it’s apparently fine since she’s technically conscious. The story concludes with the men meeting three virgin sisters and falling in love with them, essentially becoming brothers for life, all while Leanna is pressured by one of the men to leave town and be ashamed of herself. Now, if something like that can be approved, why can’t his play - which actually has something to say of substance?”

The whole room is silent. Fucking silent. Ezra can’t do silence, not for a long time. He needs someone to talk, even if it is Professor Johnson’s stammering, although he would _prefer_ to hear Mason obliterate them more-

“But that’s okay,” Mason shrugs, gathering all of his stuff, “I found a community theater and some non-profit groups willing to donate to make Ezra’s play happen. I just wanted Dartmouth to have first dibs, school pride and all. But it’s fine if you don’t WANT to spend money on the play. I mean, better save up for the upcoming legal fees that are about to hit you. You know what, Ezra? This can be a good thing. The settlement money you will inevitably get from this will give you a higher budget than you could ever dream of. Talk about poetic justice-”

“Fine,” Professor Johnson says quickly, cutting Mason off, “The play’s approved. You get two thousand to put it on.”

Ezra’s fine with that. It’s something. He can work with it and raise funds elsewhere. So he decides to play nice, stand up to shake their hands, but suddenly there is a hand on his chest gently pushing him back. 

“We want five thousand.”

Professor Johnson sputters in outrage, “FIVE THOUSAND?! The grant I am offering is for two thousand, so I am sorry but you are shit out of lu-”

“Two thousand from the grant, sure,” Mason shrugs, “Three thousand from the department. If you recall, you also gave Three Guys and a Broad five thousand dollars. You also planned to give even more to South Pacific. While there are not many, there are a few plays you have given more than two thousand dollars to. Those plays have always either been written or produced by the children of prominent alumni. Ezra is offering to put on a first time premiere of a play that has already received an award before it has even been performed. So unless you are discriminating against him because of the lack of wealth and education that his parents have-”

“Alright!” Professor Johnson says, throwing up his hands as he begins walking towards them, “We will talk numbers, sign papers, and we will...we will agree towards a budget in that range-”

“A minimum of five thousand,” Mason gently reminds him as Professor Johnson turns purple, “There’s a trippy dream sequence. There wasn’t a trippy dream sequence in Three Guys and a Broad so that definitely needs covered. But I promise that the funds given to him will be properly allocated. We still plan on raising more, but your increased offer will help us greatly and inspire others to help bring this show to fruition. Look out for a great production in November. It might be your best one yet.”

Professor Johnson lets out a shaky exhale and clenches his fists, “Ezra, I will discuss the paperwork with you later. Just get him out of my office.”

\--------------------------------

Ezra feels like he’s in a daze as he walks alongside an otherwise unbothered Mason down the hall, out the doors, and through the courtyard. He doesn’t know what to say or what to think. All he knows is that no one - absolutely no one - has stood up for him or believed in him like that before, not to the extent to go to bat for him, fight for him, and fucking win. The more he thinks about it, the more he wants to cry from feeling so moved, and he really doesn’t want to come off as weepy after Mason was such a badass. 

So he’s just going to thank him. Thank him, tell him that he was awesome, and give him an awkward high five or something. 

“You-” Ezra starts, then stops walking because he can’t even get a fucking word out without feeling like he’s about to tear up. It’s stupid. It’s fucking stupid. This is nothing to get emotional over. 

“...Me what?” Mason asks, coming to a halt and turning around to lock eyes. And Mason’s eyes, while they looked so calculating and sexy and badass in Johnson’s office, they look so kind, sweet, and tender now. It’s the cute, quiet, mysterious, athletic, secretly nerdy puppy dog that Ezra knows and loves and if anything, he’s even more attracted to him than he had been moments before. His heart literally feels like it’s about to burst in his chest. It’s a feeling that’s completely foreign to him and it’s just making keeping his cool harder. 

So instead of risking some emotions spilling out with his words, he throws his arms around Mason and pulls him into an embrace, one that’s tight and tear free. Mason doesn’t return the hug at first. It takes long enough that Ezra notices and wonders if he’s crossed a line. But just as Ezra’s about to let go and apologize, Mason’s arms wrap around Ezra's back and hold him just as tightly, fiercely even. Ezra nuzzles his face into the crook of Mason’s neck and can feel Mason letting out a shaky breath against his collarbone before his fingers clench into the fabric of Ezra’s shirt. 

It’s probably not the most socially appropriate hug for friends, but Ezra doesn’t really care. He’s never been one to care much about social norms anyway and what he’s feeling for Mason right now is a lot stronger than what he’s ever felt for anyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


	5. Mid June 2014, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the boys have an upsetting encounter, Ezra takes Mason on a day trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions of previous abuse and trauma as well as previous sexual harassment in the workforce.

Mason is so focused on what he’s typing that he doesn’t even register Ezra sliding into the booth across from him, “Which day is the best day for you, Friday or Saturday?”

Mason looks up at Ezra and sees that his friend looks hopeful and happy over something, “I don’t know. I think I’m free both days.”

“Because I know I can get covered at the theater on Saturday,” Ezra continues, “But if I really beg, I feel like Friday could be doable.”

“What are you wanting to do this weekend?” Mason asks and Ezra shrugs, coming off as nonchalant.

“I don’t know,” Ezra says, “I figured if you didn’t have anything to do and you didn’t have any hot dates or anything, we could hang out. I thought maybe I could take you to dinner. Maybe we can watch a movie or go on a drive.”

“So _you_ want to be my hot date,” Mason says. He doesn’t know why the words send a thrill through him, nor does he know why the long hug in the courtyard pops into his head as soon as he says them, but that’s what happens. 

“Yes! That’s EXACTLY it,” Ezra says, grinning widely, “You know how little I have been dating or seeing anyone. It hurts me to go so long without companionship. You’ll just have to do.”

Mason snorts, “You get hit on every time I am with you. And we hang out in some capacity almost every single day, even if it is just me sitting here while you do your job. I think you could probably find someone within seconds if you wanted to.”

Ezra squints, as if he’s trying to find Mason’s angle, “So is that a no?”

“Of course it isn’t,” Mason says, rolling his eyes, “You don’t have to pay for dinner though. You really don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do,” Ezra says, “You randomly buy me meals when I’m working and bring me food from my favorite places on my lunch break whenever I mention I am sick of the menu. You always go out of the way. It’s my turn.”

“You took me out to dinner in Vermont a few times, once for my birthday and the rest just because you felt I needed ‘a change of scenery’. And you have also brought me dinner at the Admissions Office when I’m working,” Mason points out.

“Okay, one - birthdays don’t count,” Ezra says, “Doing something nice for a good friend on their birthday is a given. And two - so what?”

Mason rolls his eyes in amusement, “Okay, fine. What time do you want to meet on Saturday?”

“Mmmm…” Ezra says, seeming to think on it, “Let me get back to you. I need to check on a few things. Kind of early though, so that I can take you on a little day trip because I’m the one who needs a change of scenery this time. But if that’s not possible, then probably like 5 pm so that we can grab something to eat and maybe head back to my place to watch a movie or something. We’ll see. But I hope it’s the first one.”

“I hope so too,” Mason says, which has Ezra smiling once more. That sends a thrill through Mason as well. 

\------------------------------------

Mason doesn’t wait until Saturday morning to see Ezra. He had been telling the truth when he said he has nothing better to do on Friday. There’s a party a few members of Tri-Kappa are going to, but Zane said he was going somewhere with Yas so he wouldn’t be there. Ronnie snuck off to one of the other sorority parties instead to flirt with the girl he’s been talking to and Jackson went home for the summer. Mason feels no need to stick around for the party if they’re not there. And if he’s being one hundred percent honest, he’d prefer watching Ezra strut around in heels, a corset, and fishnets, all while he flirts with the cast members and the audience. He doesn’t get to see Ezra in Rocky nearly as often as he gets to see him in the diner. Part of it is because it’s so late and on the weekends, which conflicts with Tri-Kappa plans that Mason is getting more and more tired of. The other part is that Ezra is really busy. When he's an emcee, he’s interacting with the whole audience and yelling out phrases from the back and Mason will sit nearby, not saying a word. When he’s Frank-N-Furter, he doesn’t really get to interact with him at all since Ezra is too busy doing routines and lip-syncing with the movie playing on the screen.

Ezra does find one way to interact with him as Frank-N-Furter. The six times Mason has seen him in the role, Ezra has - without fail - come over to him to sit on his lap during ‘I’m Going Home’, all while stroking his hair and his face. It doesn’t matter where Mason sits, it’s like Ezra instinctively knows and will go out of his way just so Mason will have to deal with a spotlight being on him for thirty seconds. He truly doesn’t enjoy that part. Mason honestly doesn’t like to have a crowd’s attention zero in on him. But he likes Ezra. He likes him possibly more than he’s liked anyone else. He’s never had a friend like him and while Mason doesn’t want anyone else’s attention, he wants his.

“Later, cutie,” Ezra says into his ear before going up to the front for the rest of the show. Mason feels his heart beating a little too quickly until he feels a tap on his shoulder. When he turns around, he sees what looks to be a pimply faced guy in his late teens wearing a Rocky Horror shirt, looking at him almost accusingly. 

“I’ve seen you here a bunch before,” the guy says, giving Mason a once over, “You’re not even a true Rocky fan, I can tell. But Ezra _always_ picks you. He used to never pick the same person twice and I’ve been waiting for like ever. But now he only picks you to sit on. Why?”

What is Mason even supposed to say to that? Is he expected to apologize? 

“There’s always next weekend,” Mason shrugs before turning back around. It even sounds bitchy and smug to his own ears.

“He’s the emcee next weekend!” the guy hisses, “I keep track!” 

It isn’t the last that he hears on the matter though. When Mason is out in the lobby and waiting for Ezra to get out, one of the concessions staff comes up to him. She’s dressed in black jeans and a Rocky shirt, like the rest of the staff not in costume, and has a theater name tag that says the name ‘Kelsey’ on it. She stops in front of Mason for a moment, seeming to ponder what she wants to say to him, then looks at him curiously.

“Hey, question. Why does Ezra always pick you to seduce?” she asks, although not as accusingly as the freshman had, “Are you his boyfriend or something?”

Mason takes a second to answer. Why does he always feel weird when people ask him that? Is he afraid of people thinking he’s gay? That’s what he thought it was at first - some weird, toxic masculine trait causing the flutter in his stomach and the dryness in his mouth. But he’s not feeling repulsed or like he needs to do damage control. It’s different. The emotions he feels prior to denying being with Ezra are the same emotions he feels when he’s about to lie to someone about something. When it doesn’t feel like a lie, he feels like he wants his answer to be different.

“...He’s a very close friend,” Mason says after a pause, “I think he does it because he knows they’ll put the spotlight on me and he thinks it's funny."

“Huh,” Kelsey says, then lets out a small laugh, “Okay, I was just wondering. Ezra’s superfans keep asking us who you are and are really pissy about it.”

“His superfans?” Mason asks and Kelsey looks at him like he’s dumb. 

“Oh my god, yes. He has a bunch. It’s weird considering it isn’t like he’s famous at all, not yet at least. The ones who are obsessive are mainly high school and college students but there are some 40 and 50 year olds too. There was some older guy we had to ban from the theater because he’s so obsessed with Ezra. A few of them, actually. We had to ban a couple of women too. Ezra wasn’t really afraid of any of them or anything, we were the ones who put the ban in place. Except for one of the guys. Ezra demanded that he not be let in. I think that fucker is banned at the diner too. But I'm pretty sure Ezra knows him from somewhere else and legitimately despises him. As for the rest of them though, I don’t get it. I mean, I’ve seen him in stuff outside of this and I know he’s extremely talented and charismatic. And obviously, he’s super attractive. I get the appeal and get why people want to see everything he’s in. But some of them are straight up culty and hate you now. Just thought you should know.” 

“I mean…” Mason says, not really knowing what to say, “... _Hate_? Really?”

Kelsey nods, “Yeah, buddy. Just thought you should watch your back. I’m sure they’re harmless, but it still never hurts to be careful, you know? We try to be. A couple of us managed to get in a private fan group someone made for him on Facebook. There are like a hundred members-”

“How? He’s a college student!” Mason says incredulously, but then he feels like he is really undermining Ezra so he clarifies, “I know he’s ridiculously talented and I know he’s the best actor at Dartmouth by far. I get that he attracts a higher amount of ticket sales if he’s attached to a show at the college. That’s been a thing. I’m aware of that. But he’s an actor in Hanover. He hasn’t even been in any full length movies that have been released yet. How does he have a group dedicated to him?”

“Like I said, don’t ask me,” she says, “We watch the group just to kind of give him a heads up if things seem weird. He thinks it’s all unnecessary and feels like him having a legitimate fanbase isn’t a thing, but it is. And not only that, some of them are a bit intense. Pictures of you and him have popped up in that group and they’ve been speculating on who you are to him, why you guys hang out so much, and why he takes his breaks with you when you’re visiting him at the diner-”

“Okay, that’s just creepy,” Mason says, stepping back. 

“It is,” Kelsey agrees, “I probably shouldn’t have said anything but Ezra just tends to be sweet to them and ignores the more obsessive ones. I figured you should know since there are more people from the Facebook group here than usual tonight and they’re all gathered there in that corner, whispering about you and shooting the occasional glare. I guess uh...let us know if any of them make any threats.”

Mason glances over to the corner she’s talking about and sure enough, there are at least a dozen people standing together with Rocky Shirts on. But when he gets a better look at one of their shirts, it isn’t Tim Curry on there. That’s what they sell and give out at the theater and Mason can only assume in general. No, this one has _Ezra_ on it as Dr. Frank-N-Furter. He stares at it so intensely that he doesn’t even realize that half of the so-called fans are glaring at him until a few seconds later. 

“You saw the shirts?” Kelsey asks, glancing over, “Yeah, we put up one promo pic of him on social media when he first started this gig and they made it into a shirt. It’s almost always a full house now that he works here though, so that’s fun. We have a lot more regulars, some super fans and some just discovering him and finding him really entertaining. Anyway, it was nice meeting you…”

“Mason,” Mason says to her, still glancing at the group in apprehension. 

“Mason,” Kelsey repeats, “Better not tell them that. Although, I’m sure they already know.”

Before Mason can say anything to that, Ezra comes out into the lobby looking and dressing completely like himself again, only to be swarmed by the group over in the corner. Mason doesn’t know why he hasn’t connected the dots on Ezra having _fans_ before. He has noticed some people eager to talk to Ezra at the diner. He has noticed a few people weirdly ask for autographs after Rocky. When Mason teased him about it, Ezra dismissed it with an eye roll. Mason had just thought people were doing it for the sake of doing it - having a signed program. Mason would have never even guessed that Ezra had _fans_ \- or a cult, if Kelsey isn’t exaggerating. And the more Mason watches, the more he thinks she’s not as the pimply teenager who sat behind Mason asks for a hug and a woman old enough to be Ezra’s mom giggles and puts a flirtatious hand on his arm when Ezra acknowledges her. 

Of course this is a thing. It’s not like Mason thinks that Ezra doesn’t deserve them. Ezra probably has more talent in his pinky than a lot of Oscar and Tony winning actors do, at least from what Mason has seen here, in one play, in two episodes of SVU, and in couple of student films Ezra has starred in. Ezra STILL hasn’t sung in front of him, so he has no first hand proof of his talent there, but he’s heard from Yas that his voice is amazing and Mason believes her. Everything about Ezra is amazing. Suddenly, Mason has no idea why Ezra wouldn’t have fans or admirers or whatever these people are. He’s the best actor at Dartmouth, he’s outgoing and charismatic, and Kelsey is right. Ezra is extremely attractive. Like, ridiculously attractive. Not in the typical generic pretty boy way. Ezra is _beautiful_. There is probably no one in the world who looks like him. Everyone’s eyes just go straight to him whenever he walks onto a stage or into a room. Paired up with his personality, he has this presence that can’t be matched. It’s actually kind of unfair that Ezra has the looks, charisma, talent, and brains that he has. He may have grown up really poor, but he won the lottery in some ways.

Mason gets it now. He doesn’t get why he’s _hated_ by Ezra’s fans, but he gets why they’re a thing. Despite Ezra being the type to love attention, he does seem to look a bit overwhelmed by them. Maybe it’s because it’s 3 am and he’s probably exhausted. Maybe it’s because he has several people hitting on him at once and Ezra can only deal with so many. Whatever it is, it makes Mason want to step in and give him an out without either of them coming off as dicks. But Mason doesn’t know how to do that. Ezra does eventually excuse himself though.

“Well, ‘that guy’ over there is with me, if you must know,” Ezra says, walking away as he comes off as apologetic, “I don’t want to keep him waiting. He’s so special to me so he should be special to all of you too! No need to be weird about him, he’s super friendly.”

As soon as Ezra gets close enough to talk to Mason without the group overhearing, he says in a low voice, “Mason, wave at them and smile so that we can leave.”

“Why do _I_ have to wave and smile at them?” Mason asks, “They’re your fans.”

“They’re not fans,” Ezra whispers, “That’s a huge exaggeration, you sound like Kelsey. They’re just...I don’t know, they appreciate me, I guess. But there are a couple here that _really_ appreciate me and they’re jealous that you’re here and I just want to go home.”

“...Whatever,” Mason says, before smiling and waving, “Have a nice night!”

The group just stares at him, only a few waving back awkwardly. 

“That did nothing,” Mason mutters but Ezra just links his arm with his and leads him out of the theater doors. 

“The car is a few blocks away. There wasn’t any parking,” Mason says as they still inexplicably walk with their arms linked, “Do you want to run around the building and hide in the back until I bring the car around?”

“No,” Ezra says, rolling his eyes, “That would be ridiculous. I’m not intimidated by them. They just like the stuff I am in.”

“Hmm, if you say so,” Mason says, nodding, “So what do they call themselves? Ezra-maniacs? Ezheads?”

“Ha ha,” Ezra says dryly, then lets out a groan, “Kelsey said the group is called Ezradicals.”

Mason tries not to laugh, he really does. But he’s not the actor out of the two of them. He can’t hide his amusement. 

“It’s not funny,” Ezra says, dragging his feet in exaggerated despair, “Stop laughing, you’re going to make me laugh and I don’t want to because I hate it.”

“I’m sorry,” Mason says, trying to pull it together, “You don’t feel unsafe around them, do you?”

If Mason had been still tempted to laugh after apologizing, that temptation leaves when Ezra doesn’t answer.

“Ezra?” Mason questions, slowing down to get a better look at him, but Ezra tells him to shush and clings onto Mason’s arm just a little more tightly.

“That guy across the street? If he comes over, don’t engage,” Ezra says, not sounding scared but put off and annoyed. Mason glances over and it’s hard to miss him, since he’s getting out of his car and walking across the street, making a beeline for them. Mason is suddenly glad that he’s the one closer to the road because the man is obviously coming over for Ezra. Mason doesn’t have fans. Ezra is the one who has fans. That’s been established. This guy doesn’t look like the fans in the lobby though. He’s dressed in a casual suit, has slicked back hair, and is probably in his mid to late 40s. 

“Ezra!” the man calls out, falling in step behind them as Mason instinctively takes his arm from Ezra’s hold and puts it around his waist to urge him forward so that Mason can block him better, “Ezra, I just want to talk. I have some projects that you might be interested in. Thought you might want to come into the office.”

“I seriously doubt that I am interested, but thank you!” Ezra says before muttering more to himself, “It is 3 am, what the fuck?”

“Hey, I’m not stopping until you hear me out,” the guy says, catching up a little before taking a moment to give Mason an appreciative once over, “Who is this? Your boyfriend? He can stay. He’s good looking, I could probably find him some work too, if he’s in the business. You model or do you act, kid?”

“Neither,” Ezra says, harsher than Mason has ever heard him as he whips his whole body around to stare at the guy, “Fuck off. I’m serious. Thanks for the one legitimate role I got working with you, but I am _never_ taking you on as an agent again. You know this and yet you’re here.”

But the guy just laughs and walks closer, “You don’t mean that, come on. You overreact so much. What I asked you to do is normal for the roles I had in mind for you. I’m sure your friend is reasonable and would understand my point.”

“No, it’s not!” Ezra scoffs, “You tried to get me to pose naked for you at your house and claimed that the casting director interested in me wanted them. That isn’t a thing. I’ve done a nude scene before and that is not a fucking thing.”

“It was for this casting director,” the guy says, simply shrugging.

“Even if it was, which it wasn’t because I tracked down their number, called them, and asked after the fact,” Ezra says pointedly, “That doesn’t explain you doing all of that quid pro quo bullshit and refusing to relay professional inquiries unless I went out to a bar with you, only for you to try to talk me into giving you a blowjob in your car. You thought I was drunk but I wasn’t fucking drunk because I told that bartender to pour me virgins _alllll_ night but charge you for the liquor. You know why? Because I never once thought you weren’t a creep so _fuck you_. You ended up with a fat lip that night for a reason. Get away from me and don’t you EVER come near him. Just get out of my sight. Go work on trying to tarnish my reputation with New England’s finest production companies you claim you are so chummy with. Go on. Bye.”

“Ezra, would you stop being so stubborn? You were giving me mixed signals! What the fuck else do you expect?”

Ezra lets out a snort, “You think I’d ever be interested in you? I don’t know what signals you were reading, but they weren’t coming from me. And I don’t expect a lot. Just, you know, not being pestered by you after nine months, not being sexually harassed in the workplace, basic human decency, stuff like that.”

The man glares, “I’m not a fucking creep. I’m sure you’ve told your classmates that, huh? Is that why so many cancel meetings last second? You _are_ extremely talented, so I guess that makes sense, getting them to believe that bullshit.”

But apparently the man isn’t done. He only steps closer with a more calculated look on his face.

“And you really want to get into mixed signals?” he asks as his mouth quirks up into a smirk, “How can you fault me for thinking you’re an easy lay when I’ve heard so many lovely things about you? From what I understand, you will stick your dick in any consenting adult. Sure, things would be the other way around with us, but-”

The man’s words trigger something within Mason. He can’t listen to them anymore. It causes him to block Ezra with his own body completely and cutting him off altogether.

“Go back to your car,” Mason says, looking the man straight in the eye as he steps forward, “He doesn’t want you around. Yet here you are, harassing him outside of his job at 3 o’ clock in the morning. You are a creep and that’s putting it mildly. Leave him alone. You’re lucky he hasn’t gotten a restraining order against you.”

The man lets out a sardonic laugh and pulls out his wallet, “Look, kid, I’m going to give you my card. If you want to talk, call the number on there. But this isn’t about you.”

Mason knows what’s triggering him to stand in front of Ezra - protectiveness over his friend as well as escalating anger and simmering rage over what he’s heard (don’t think about it, don’t connect it, just block those thoughts). He’s not sure what causes him to rip the wallet out of the guy’s hands and throw it. The thing is, he means to throw it in the street, preferably somewhat near the man’s car. That doesn’t happen. Whether it’s bad luck for this asshole or divine intervention, the wallet lands into the back of an erratically and quickly driven pick-up truck that clips Ezra’s ex-agent’s side view mirror hard enough to make it hang there pathetically before it speeds off, likely going 45 in a 25. 

“Oh, man,” Mason says, feigning a wince as he looks at the business card in his hands. Howard Lawson Creative Management. Noted, “You better go after them. I think they have your wallet. Wouldn’t want you to lose all of your business cards. Do you want this one back?”

“You fucking twink motherfucker!” Howard yells before running off to his car, getting in, and driving off in less than twenty seconds. 

“...Do twinks fuck mothers? I thought that was a gay thing,” Mason has to ask, “Yeah. It’s a gay thing. That insult made no sense at all.”

But Ezra doesn’t have an answer for him. He’s just looking at him with bright eyes and putting his hands over his mouth.

Mason stares back at him. At first, he’s trying to silently see if Ezra is okay. He looks okay. He actually looks happy right now, so that’s good. But his friend is sort of frozen and Mason doesn’t really know if Ezra wants to talk or be hugged or-

“You are…” Ezra says before Mason is finished going over different possibilities, “The most extra, over the top person in my life thus far.”

Mason gives him a look of confusion, “No, I’m not-”

“Yes, you are,” Ezra corrects, poking Mason's chest, “You so totally are.”

“Well…” Mason says, sighing, “I’m sorry, but he was really pissing me off-”

“Sorry?” Ezra says, now the confused one, “No no no, I mean that as the biggest compliment I can give a person. Oh my god. First, you not only get my play approved, but you get the school to give me five thousand dollars for it by annihilating them with fact after fact after fact until they are quivering at the thought of a lawsuit. Then, you step in front of me like a guard dog, take my asshole ex-agent’s wallet, and throw it into the moving truck that hit his car. You are amazing! You are incredible! You are the best thing to ever enter my life and I will never regret saying that, even with your technical frat boy status. I am definitely a fan of you, I should come up with a fandom name for the new Mason fan club.”

“Shouldn’t we talk about something more serious?” Mason asks, trying and failing not to smile when Ezra wraps his arms and presses his cheek against his head when they walk, “Like, the fact that you have a stalker?”

“Pfft,” Ezra says, “Please, he’s harmless. He’s barely come around the last several months and doesn’t have my number since I changed it. I blocked him on all socials and he hasn’t tried to reach out with another profile that I know of. He was probably drunk.”

“Stalkers are serious,” Mason says, feeling his heart get heavy at the thought of Molly, “My sister dated a guy for three months and he stalked her for years. He attacked her and everything. She didn’t tell me about that until after she was almost healed, but they can get really dangerous.”

Ezra still has his arms around him as he does become more serious, “I know they can get dangerous. I realize that. But Howard doesn’t follow me around. He knows I work at this theater on the weekends so he occasionally is here before the show. It’s been a long time since he has waited for me to get out though. Anyway, he knows he can’t come inside. The sight of him pisses me off, but I’m not scared of him. I’ve never been scared of him. He just makes me so mad.”

“He makes me mad too,” Mason says, his mouth feeling dry as he tries to broach the topic without getting upset, “Did he...Did he uh...Did he hurt you? Like, why did you give him a fat lip?”

Ezra lets out a sigh, “He attempted to. Barely. He grabbed the collar of my shirt to yank my head into his lap when I told him no and tried to get out of the car, so I got out of his hold before he could get his pants unzipped and threw my fist into his face. I’m not a fighter, I promise you, but I do actually know how. My dad had me in karate lessons for twelve years. His friend used to travel around and compete so I got them for free. I didn’t have very good leverage so it wasn’t like I pulled an actual move on Howard, but I did make his lip bust open and swell up like a balloon.”

“Okay,” Mason says, feeling relieved, “Okay, that’s good.”

But Ezra frowns and rubs Mason’s arms, “You’re shaking. Are you cold? It’s almost July but there is a breeze, I suppose.”

Mason shakes his head, “No, I’m fine. Uh...Just adrenaline drain, I think.”

Ezra seems to accept this answer, “It’s because you’re such a badass. No, you’re a hero. You’re _my_ hero-”

“Now who’s extra?” Mason snorts as they arrive at his car and Mason goes over to the driver’s side. He can drive. He’s okay. He isn’t thinking about before and he will continue not to think of it. 

“Okay, so names,” Ezra starts as he buckles into the passenger seat, “What do you think of...Masenthusiasts?” 

“I think you should ask your fan club for advice,” Mason says as Ezra puts a hand to his chest.

“ _Ouch_ ,” Ezra says, but moves on, “Masonics? No, No! I have one! Masoholics! I’m a Masoholic because I can’t get enough of you. That’s it. That’s what we’re going with. It’s done.”

“I’ll spread the word to everyone who admires me,” Mason says, then waits a beat, “Okay, that’s done.”

Ezra sputters in what sounds like outrage, “Get that low self-esteem out of this car! I mean it. I truthfully hyped you up and I don’t say all of those wonderful things just about anyone. You go above and beyond and sometimes I feel like I don’t do enough for you, especially now.”

Mason scoffs, “That’s buillshit. You have gone twenty minutes out of your way just to get coffee with me. You have read my marketing research papers, even though it’s not your thing-”

“Only because I want a _taste_ of what I am so desperately waiting for,” Ezra says but Mason ignores that.

“You let me crash on your couch for a few days while my car was being worked on as well as took me to work everyday and altered your schedule to match mine as much as possible so that we could drive into Hanover together. You kidnap me and take me on spontaneous day trips when you get a hunch that I’m in a mood and I always feel a lot better. You do so much for me. You’re amazing. You’re incredible. And whatever else you said about me.”

Ezra is quiet for a moment and Mason begins to worry that he made him uncomfortable somehow. But that doesn’t seem to be the case once Ezra turns in his seat to look at him and Mason supposes that makes sense. The only time Mason has seen Ezra put on the spot or uncomfortable had been tonight, minorly around his fans and more significantly around his ex-agent. Mason apparently doesn’t make Ezra uncomfortable at all.

“You see, when _I_ said it, I shouted,” Ezra says, sounding like he is hinting at something, “The louder you say it, the more you mean it.”

“Oh, okay, Mr. ‘I don’t want a fan club, I just want to work on my craft’ wants me to shout my appreciation and adoration for him?” Mason laughs, feeling a little calmer than before.

Ezra lets out a sigh, “No, I suppose you’re right. Some of them could still be lurking and might overhear you. I don’t want a noise complaint issued against you out of retaliation.”

“Uh huh,” Mason says, shaking his head, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you have a cult that follows you around.”

“I was waiting for the third date, what can I say? I’m a gentleman,” Ezra says sarcastically. 

“Well, according to Kesley, they apparently think we are well past that,” Mason says. He had been expecting a humored or incredulous reaction from Ezra. But instead, Ezra gets quiet and this time, Mason has a feeling that Ezra is uncomfortable this time around, or at least put on the spot. 

“...Does that bother you?” Ezra ends up asking, his normally projecting voice quiet.

Mason shrugs, trying to come off as indifferent yet feels his stomach twisting into knots, “Not really. We hang out a lot and get along really well. I get why some people think that there might be something going on. It’s none of their business, but I get it. Why? Does it bother you?”

These are the times when Mason wishes Ezra didn’t have the talent that he has. It makes it hard to read whether or not Ezra is telling the truth.

“No,” Ezra says, coming off as his usual self again, “I mean, I worry that someone will try to boil your future daughter’s pet rabbit because they’re so obsessed with me and want to retaliate, but other than that-”

“My future daughter’s pet rabbit?” Mason asks, giving him a strange look, “Where is this daughter coming from? Where is this rabbit coming from?”

“It’s a reference, Mason,” Ezra sighs, “Fatal Attraction? A classic. We’re watching it next movie night now. Anyway, Michael Douglas has a brief affair with Glenn Close, then cuts it off because he loves his family. Glenn’s obsession just grows after his rejection and she starts to resent his wife and daughter. You’re totally the wife. Anne Archer had this sense of cute and adorable innocence about her like you do, but was a sexy badass underneath it all, also like you-”

“That last sentence will convince no one that we’re just friends, but go on,” Mason says, huffing out a breath in amusement.

“Anyway, Glenn Close gets mad when Michael Douglas ignores her so she kills his daughter’s rabbit, which you - and by you, I mean Anne - find boiling in the stew pot,” Ezra finishes.

“So my daughter is also your daughter,” Mason says, trying to connect the dots here.

Ezra shrugs, “In this analogy, yes. But I don’t want a relationship like _that_ if I ever get married. I may have been a slut way back when, but I am NOT a cheater. Also, I don’t want a baby for at least six years. And that’s at a minimum. Waiting until thirty sounds better. I know that I want no less than two and no more than three and would prefer to adopt regardless of the gender of my partner. There are a lot of kids on my reservation and neighboring ones taken into foster care due to all of the alcohol and drug issues and they end up with white families who have no connection to the culture. And I’m not necessarily against that if the child is happy and safe and going back to their biological families isn’t possible. I’m not saying those families won’t love them at all. But there are laws in place to at least attempt to keep those kids connected to their culture and those tend to get ignored a little too often. And I would be someone from their culture who could also provide a safe and happy home and I think that’s for the best - for them to have at least one adoptive parent who comes from their tribe or is at least Native. But not right now. I have too many things to accomplish. So if that’s something you need out of life at this very moment, then you should just go and find someone who is ready for that kind of commitment. I suppose I’ll get over it. Maybe. Eventually.”

“A six plus year wait on kids sounds more than fine, so I think I’m good,” Mason says, snorting, “And I think you’re exhausted. You literally just went from talking about your fanbase, to talking about how your fanbase perceives me, to talking about me having a kid who has a dead rabbit, to explaining what sounds like an over-the-top thriller and comparing us to the married couple in the movie, to finally making sure that I know you aren’t a cheater and that you want to adopt Native American kids from the foster system. That was a rapid series of topic changes, even for you. You need to sleep.”

“I do,” Ezra nods, resting his head against the seat, “I am very tired. I just keep thinking about all of the cute kids who need my help.”

“You’re so strange,” Mason says, shaking his head, “But good for you. For wanting to adopt. Very noble. I would prefer to do the same thing.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Ezra says, perking up a little, “You’re adopted too! I keep forgetting.”

“I mean, not from the system, but my dad adopted me when he married my mom, so yeah,” Mason shrugs.

“Well, he must love you a lot,” Ezra says, “Understandably so. I mean, look at you. But it’s nice that he is supportive of you and helps you out with school and stuff.”

“...Yeah,” Mason says, feeling a bit weird talking about his dad. He’s barely talked to the man since April, on his birthday. A few texts and maybe a call or two when his dad actually picks up the phone but that’s about it. And during those conversations, his dad never really seems to want to talk. Part of Mason wants to say that out loud, tell Ezra that he really does feel unloved by his family right now, but that’s too heavy of a conversation to bring up in the car.

“I definitely wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. My mom and I were extremely poor until she started going out with him. She was kicked out by her parents for having me in high school and not giving me up for adoption. We lived in a women’s shelter on and off until I was seven. Sometimes it was because we didn’t have enough money to rent a place and other times it was because she had this really abusive boyfriend. The first couple of times she left him, it was because he beat her up. She eventually went back after a few months and would drop the charges. The third time, I intervened. I couldn’t do much, he was obviously a lot bigger than me. But I shoved at him and jumped on him when he was hitting her, yelled at him to try to make him stop. It was happening on the second floor outside of their bedroom. It pissed him off so he backhanded me across the face and threw me down the steps. Broke my leg. She didn’t go back after that. We stayed at the shelter for two months and she got this studio apartment over the diner she worked at. It was across from one of my dad’s stores so that’s how she met him a few months later. He was still married. He cheated on his first wife with my mom. She’s a lot younger than him. Like, twenty years younger. But he uh...he took care of me and adopted me. He’s probably the only reason I did as well as I did, well enough to end up here. It’s hard for me to judge him, I guess.”

Well, THAT’S not heavy at all. Jesus Christ, why did all of that come out of his mouth? Ezra is going to think he’s insane for just telling him his childhood trauma out of nowhere. 

“Stop the car, you made me sad,” Ezra frowns and Mason barks out a surprised laugh. 

“I don’t understand how me making you sad warrants me stopping the car,” Mason says as Ezra continues to look like his puppy was killed in front of him.

“I don’t know either,” Ezra says, rubbing at his face suspiciously, “I guess it’s because I really want to hug you right now and can’t because you’re driving. I also feel like throwing up because child abuse makes me feel sick.”

“Well...I’m okay,” Mason says awkwardly, “I promise. I’m not sure why I said any of that. It just sort of spilled out.”

“No,” Ezra says firmly, “Don’t apologize. I’m glad you told me. I would have kept teasing you about being ‘upper-middle’ class without any kind of idea that you lived in a fucking shelter for the first seven years of your life-”

“On and off,” Mason corrects, “It wasn’t _constant_.”

“And your breaks from that were when you lived with your mom’s abusive ex who ended up _breaking your leg_? How old were you when that happened?”

“...Six,” Mason says, wincing when Ezra lets out a whine, “You aren’t going to start crying, are you?”

“I don’t know, maybe?” Ezra chokes out, “I really am tired. I’m sorry that I’m not as toxic with my masculinity as your Tri-Kappa friends.”

“Oh, I agree,” Mason says, “I can’t see any of them dressing up in drag and strutting around in front of a full audience, all while picking out some guy from the crowd so that they can sit in his lap.”

Ezra pulls himself together, “I don’t have to deal with the task of picking anyone when you’re there. I just go straight for you without even thinking about it. It makes my job a lot easier. It’s so trying to find someone who won’t go into gay a panic or hit on me after the show.”

“You just said earlier this week that you haven’t been on a date in a while. Don’t you want people to hit on you?”

“No,” Ezra murmurs, “It’s flattering, but not really. Not them.”

Mason doesn’t even know what that means. He’s not going to try to figure it out right now. They’re in front of Ezra’s building anyway. Although, Ezra isn’t trying to get out. He’s texting on his phone and staring at it, as if he’s waiting for a response, before it lights up again.

“Will you stay?” Ezra asks suddenly, looking at Mason with pleading eyes, “Please? I want you here.”

Mason kind of feels thrown off by the request. He isn’t against it. He has stayed on Ezra’s couch plenty of times before. It just hadn’t been planned. Ezra was supposed to come meet him at Tri-Kappa tomorrow morning. He’s just wondering why Ezra is asking and why he looks so desperate when he does it.

“Why?” Mason replies, “I thought the plan was for you to come over tomorrow-”

“I just want you here. I don’t want you by yourself right now,” Ezra says, sounding stressed. 

Mason squints in confusion, then tries to lighten things up a little, “What? Are you afraid that your fans are planning an elaborate kidnapping so that they can torture me until I blab some of your innermost secrets?”

Ezra rolls his eyes, “No, but you’ve added another reason as to why I want you to stay at my place tonight.”

“Okay…” Mason says, then lets out a sigh, “Is this about me telling you about what happened before my mom met my dad?”

“...Partly,” Ezra admits.

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me,” Mason says, “Obviously, my life got better. You’re sort of right. I did get spoiled. At least financially.”

“I don’t feel _sorry_ for you,” Ezra says quietly, “I _care_ about you. A lot. And I know Zane is staying with Yas tonight, so it’s not like he’ll even be there.”

“Well…” Mason starts, “It’s not like the house will be completely empty. I’m sure a few of the guys are still there.”

“On a Friday?” Ezra asks, “You said they were going somewhere else to party tonight. They might not be back until tomorrow after we leave. And even if they are there, you don’t even like most of them that much.”

“You got me there,” Mason says as Ezra leans in.

“Please?” Ezra says, “Please please please please please-”

“Okay,” Mason says, before meeting Ezra’s eyes, “If you absolutely insist.”

“I do,” Ezra says, then steps out of the car, “You have some clothes here. We’ll stop by Tri-Kappa and pick up your bag in the morning. But we are having a slumber party here and night has just begun!”

Mason stifles a yawn as he gets out as well and locks his car door, “You have been up for 20 hours straight and you want to take me god knows where in the morning. I give you 20 minutes until you pass out.”

“Not if I put on Fatal Attraction,” Ezra says confidently, “I can stay awake until I finish watching you watch the movie.”

“It is so awkward when you do that, I can feel your eyes on me,” Mason says, humored. 

When they step into the apartment, Deirdre is putting something Mason can’t even see in a box and Ezra is ushering her out of the room, calling out to him, “It’s nothing! It’s absolutely nothing!”

Okay, then. Weird - even for Ezra - but whatever. Not his business. 

Surprisingly - after they both get ready for bed - Ezra does end up putting on Fatal Attraction. Mason had thought he was just kidding, but apparently he hadn’t been. Almost predictably, Ezra sneaks glances at him as he watches some of the movie and even more predictably, Ezra falls asleep scrunched up on the left side of the couch a half hour into the movie. He should tell him to go to bed so that he can be more comfortable. 

But he doesn’t want to wake him up. Waking Ezra up and telling him to go to bed means that Ezra isn’t here with him and that’s probably weird and clingy. Is it weird that he doesn’t want Ezra in the other room? Had Ezra been onto something about Mason not needing to be alone tonight? Even though Mason isn’t sure why he told Ezra about his mom and her ex-boyfriend, he’s not traumatized by the incident, not anymore. His dad made sure he talked to his school counselor when he switched to a private school. It had actually worked. He probably should have talked to someone about the other thing, that thing when he was fifteen. He probably should have at least told someone. 

He’s not going to think about it. Thinking about it causes nightmares and he doesn’t want to have a nightmare here. 

“Ezra,” Mason says tiredly, nudging Ezra’s thigh with his foot, “Lie down. Or at least stretch your legs out.”

Ezra stirs and opens his eyes, blinking several times before reaching for the remote and turning off the TV, “Huh?”

“Actually stretch out,” Mason says, making a point of doing it himself as he suddenly starts to feel extremely bold, “You’ll be sore if you sleep like that.”

“Oh,” Ezra says, looking at Mason with an odd expression before slowly stretching out his legs, as if he is testing Mason.

“Night,” Mason says, trying not to focus on the way their legs are touching, how they are basically entangled together. It’s not surprising. Mason is about six feet tall and Ezra is a couple of inches taller. There’s a lot of leg.

But somehow they make it work and Mason sleeps like a baby. 

\-------------------------------------

Waking up isn't as awkward as Mason thought it would be. He's not sure how he slept through a blanket being thrown over him and Ezra, let alone whatever is on him right now. When he tries to sit up, he can't. The weight of whatever is on him is unexpectedly heavy, yet weirdly comfortable. 

"Ezra," Mason decides to groan out instead, "Why am I trapped?"

It takes a second for Ezra to even stir but as soon as he does, he opens one eye and looks around, "Hmmm?"

"I can't get up," Mason says, before burrowing more deeply under the cover to accept his fate, "We can't go anywhere today."

Ezra tries to sit up, letting out a grunt before rolling his eyes and flipping the heavy ass blanket off the top part of his body.

"Hallie must have tucked us in," Ezra says, weirdly looking touched, "She _does_ care. She doesn't sleep without her weighted blanket."

"How much does this thing weigh?" Mason asks.

"25 pounds," Ezra says, yawning, "She didn't think the one that was supposed to suit her body weight was heavy enough so I got this for her last Christmas. I made her close her eyes and threw it on her."

"I thought you didn't celebrate Christmas," Mason says, finally forcing himself to sit up.

"I don't," Ezra says pointedly, "But my roommates do. Deirdre mainly but Hallie isn't opposed. And they always conveniently ignore Christmas Eve in favor of my birthday so the least I can do is give them gifts to show my appreciation and respect for their greed driven holiday. I will probably do the same for you." 

"Have you ever regifted birthday presents you didn't like to give to them instead?"

Ezra gives him a look, "I'll never tell. What time is it?"

"I don't know," Mason says, shrugging, "I don't have my phone near me. You get up first."

"I think you should get up first," Ezra says, flopping back down onto the couch.

"I don't want to," Mason says, lying back down as well, "You're older and more responsible. You need to check what time it is."

"You're better with money," Ezra says.

Mason squints in confusion, "How does that even pertain to the topic? My point of you getting up was rational. You just threw some random point out there that isn't even right. You budget better than I do."

"Not by choice," Ezra says, "Just like I choose not to get up from underneath this blanket."

"You said you wanted to take me on a trip to show appreciation for me, but you won't even get up off the couch to-"

"Alright, fine!" Ezra says, shoving the blanket off of him, "You win."

Ezra rolls off the couch rather than choosing to stand up at first, only standing when he's partway across the living room to go over and get his phone plugged in by the TV. 

"7:15," Ezra says, glancing over at Mason, “Get up. We had over three hours of sleep and that’s perfectly adequate. We’re going on a day trip.” 

Mason just mumbles under the blanket and burrows underneath the covers more.

“Nope,” Ezra says, hopping on top of Mason to straddle him and poke him everywhere, “Get up get up get up get up get up-”

“For someone who grew up an only child, you really act like the youngest,” Mason says, then opens one eye, “Or like my mom when I was trying to refuse to go to school.”

Ezra shrugs, seeming happy with the comparison, “I definitely annoyed my cousin nonstop when she was a teenager. I could be such a little bitch. And I am _totally_ the mom friend. I take pride in it. I even packed snacks for today and everything. Very mom-like. Get. Up.”

“How?” Mason asks, moving the blanket down just a little, “I have a twenty-five pound blanket on me, a 165 pound guy on me as well.”

“175,” Ezra corrects, “I have muscle again.”

“I’m 170. You do not weigh more than me,” Mason says, glancing at Ezra’s figure, “You’re like, really skinny.”

“Don’t body shame me!” Ezra says, then pulls up one side of his shirt to reveal just a little bit of the right side of his stomach, “Look at this. Abs. I’m working out more again. I did the whole semi-starvation bullshit to get down to 160 for Angels in America and I can’t help that’s what you saw when you first met me, causing you to permanently associate the image with the thought of me! But look at me now. Here, touch them. Poke them.”

“Poke them?” Mason asks, not able to take his eyes off the sliver of skin. 

“Poke them,” Ezra confirms, intensely starting at Mason. That has to be the only reason Mason actually does it. 

“Rock hard,” Mason gives him as Ezra lowers his shirt again, his voice sounding rougher than he’d like - probably due to being tired, “Where are we going?”

“You know,” Ezra says, staring down at him pensively, “I don’t know. At all. I’ll figure it out by the time we stop at Tri-Kappa so that you can change and stuff though. Promise.”

Mason nods, then awkwardly pats Ezra’s knee, “Okay, so you’re feeling it ou-”

“No, nevermind. I’ve decided,” Ezra says, then looks at his phone, “It’s only a 2 hour drive. Salem, Massachusetts. Never been. Let’s get our fortunes read, talk to witches, see where everyone was hanged. I’m part witch, you know. I found out through Ancestry.com.”

Mason lets out an incredulous laugh, “Okay. Please elaborate.”

“So, as I told you, my mother is about a third Irish,” Ezra says.

“I am also part Irish. I guess through my bio dad’s mom, not that I know her at all,” Mason says, then squints at Ezra, “Does this mean I’m a witch? Does this mean we’re related?”

Ezra looks at Mason as though he’s repulsed, “Ugh, never say that again. You can join my coven, don’t get me wrong, but you can’t be my distant cousin. I mean, if you do a DNA kit and get the results back, only to see that I’m a connection but it's like a 6th cousin or something, then whatever. I’ll get over it and pretend that I didn’t hear you. No big deal. But just don’t put that out into the universe because the universe has a sick sense of humor. She’ll turn you into my half uncle or something and I’ll have to go to therapy over it. I already did that a few months ago. No need to go back again so soon over that kind of trauma.”

Mason opens his mouth, only to close it. He doesn’t even know how to respond to that, but Ezra's repulsion at the mere thought makes sense to him.

“Anyway, I was helping my mom figure out her family tree,” Ezra continues, getting back to his weirdly peppy, morning person self, “And by helping, I mean doing everything because she really didn’t care that much about her birth family one way or another, but I found them interesting. Her dad is very Jewish. His mother was from Estonia and his father was from the Republic of Georgia. They met when his mother was sent to a concentration camp and his dad was apparently in some sort of rebel soldier group that was fighting Nazis. They ended up immigrating to the US, then had my biological grandfather who eventually went on to unknowingly impregnate my biological grandmother while he and his parents were doing some road trip across the US. We met him and his family because they live in New Haven. He’s a professor at Yale. My mom grew up poor and here she has some prestigious professor as a dad. His other kids are my age. My youngest aunt is actually still in high school.”

“My sister’s grandpa used to be a professor at Yale, her mom’s dad,” Mason yawns, “She says he’s out of his head now, on and off at least. Alzheimer’s. I’ve met him twice, I think? Once when I was about 15 and once last year when I went with Molly to Connecticut because she didn’t want to drive there by herself with her car acting the way that it was. He was sort of out of it then too. He told me that I would change the world with the power of the written word.”

“Sounds smart to me,” Ezra shrugs, “Considering you write and all. Did he know that?”

“No,” Mason says, “He told me to write an essay on how Indiginous groups should overthrow their governments. Apparently that’s a go-to essay he assigns when he’s feeling a certain way.” 

“Okay, he sounds REALLY smart,” Ezra decides, “I must meet this man immediately. I would probably mesh better with him than my grandfather. I thought it would be fun to meet him because he was open to meeting us. And it was cool at first. It was interesting because he told us all of his family history and his kids were really excited. His older kids actually came in just to meet us. I still talk to them a little, sometimes meet them for lunch if they’re nearby. It just got super awkward with his wife. It’s still awkward with his wife. As soon as she got back home, she glared at my mom the entire time. She didn’t even know her husband when my mom was born, like chill out, you know?”

“So, is she the witch?” Mason asks, staring up at Ezra who is still straddling him almost in a casual manner, “Trying to connect how you descend from witches but I think you might be going on a tangent again.”

Ezra’s eyes light up, “Oh, right! Witches! I did go on a tangent. Maybe my 3rd grade teacher was right about me having ADHD.”

“She probably was,” Mason says, amused, “But you function very well, so I wouldn’t worry about it. Your tangents are both informative and endearing.”

Ezra looks touched by the compliment as he looks down at Mason tenderly, but then gets back on topic, “Anyway, forget about my mom’s interesting paternal lineage because that’s not the one with the witch blood. On her bio mom’s side - the one who is a quarter Cheyenne, hence my mother’s name when my grandma adopted her. Anyway, my bio grandma was mainly Irish. And SHE descended from a witch. Ann Glover. I traced it back myself. She was the last witch to be hanged in Boston and her execution set up what ended up happening in Salem.”

Mason nods slowly, “...You do realize that the vast majority of people accused of witchcraft were accused by horrible people who wanted to see them die, right?”

“Don’t rain on my parade, Mason!” Ezra says, finally getting off of him and pulling off the weighted blanket as well, “I’ve read up on her and I don’t care what the scholars say. My Nana Glover was a powerful sorceress and you can’t say otherwise. Any false accusations came from jealous bitches.”

“Your _Nana Glover_?” Mason laughs, then lets out a breath, “Why don’t we go to Boston then? Maybe there is a memorial or something you can cry over, leave flowers at, and tell everyone who passes it that she’s your beloved grandma.”

“There is!” Ezra says, turning around, “There’s even a day dedicated to her! November 16th. We should go to Boston on that day too, to honor her. But we can also go today. Hit both Salem and Boston. I think they’re only a half hour away from each other. I need to honor my Irish roots anyway, so they don’t feel neglected and bitter. You should too. The last time I even thought about them was on Saint Patrick’s Day.”

Mason has stopped trying to make sense of Ezra’s thought process on some things. It’s better to just go with it. It usually ends up being more fun, anyway. So he just brushes his teeth before Ezra takes over the bathroom to shower and get ready.

\------------------------------

Maybe Ezra should have stayed in the car. But he wants to make sure Mason looks perfect for tonight, because while Mason does dress surprisingly nicely for a guy who is technically in a fraternity, he doesn’t know that a party is going to be thrown specifically in his honor. Ezra usually avoids going into Tri-Kappa. He’s gone in a couple of times - the first night he and Mason met, once when Mason got really drunk close to campus and practically needed to be carried back to his room, and after Mason had gotten his play approved. Other than that, Ezra tends to just wait outside until Mason comes out. It works better that way. It’s funny, because Tri-Kappa strangely has the highest number of frat boys that he tolerates or even likes. Mason tops the list, obviously. Mason is his absolute favorite frat boy, likely his favorite boy period. Then there’s Zane, who Ezra is slowly starting to grow fond of because he really is trying to learn and he really does care for Yas in a way she’s never experienced before. Then there’s Ronnie. There’s a history there and while they don’t really talk anymore, there is an unspoken bond between them. Ronnie has diverted attention away from Ezra on the occasions he has gone into the house with Mason, subtly and in a way that no one catches onto. Ezra would like to think he would help out Ronnie as well, if he saw he ever needed it. They might not be _friends_ but Ezra can’t help but appreciate him and what he had done for him before.

Still, he doesn’t like going into frat houses. But it’s 8:30 in the morning. There was a big party at another house last night and a lot of the guys are either home or on some weekend trip. He’ll be fine. 

“I just want to make sure you look nice,” Ezra insists as they walk up the front walk, “We’ll get you dressed in a day outfit, then make sure you have a nice evening one. Not one that looks like you are trying to show anyone up, sort of like a casual date night outfit if you catch my drift.”

“No, not really, but if you want to try to style me, then whatever,” Mason says as he pulls his key out to open the front door. 

“I don’t really need to style you,” Ezra says, standing behind him, “ I just want to make sure they are right for today and tonight. You have really nice clothes. I know you have good taste in them. I went shopping with you before. I may still have the sweater you lent me because I like it so much.”

“Oh, so that’s where that sweater went,” Mason muses as they step inside, “Whatever. You can have it. You look nice in green.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Ezra says, “Because I didn't plan on giving it back unless you made me. I'm not wearing it tonight as in my outfit ensemble but it was a contender.”

“Your date night casual night outfit?” Mason asks, raising his eyebrow. Before Ezra can respond, they’re interrupted by someone clearing their throat above them.

“Someone didn’t make it back last night,” Caleb says, leaning over the railing from the second floor before he glances over at Ezra, “Oh, it’s because of you. Got it. Seriously, Mason? Seriously? We were trying to get you to come out with us because Valentina specifically asked about you. She’s into you. You know this, you knew that she was coming, and you know that she’s your type. Dark hair, dark eyes, probably like a size 10. Not plus sized but way too fat to be a model. I’m into skinny blondes myself but I’m pretty sure I’m right about you. You’re into the more exotic looking girls, right? Valentina fits the bill.”

Caleb watches Ezra as he says it and gives him a once over as he takes a swig of beer, “Unless you’re into exotic looking guys now. He sort of weirdly fits your type too. Gross.”

“Why are you racist this early? You probably enjoy it when people call us the KKK. Fucking dick,” Mason asks, knocking the beer out of his hand, causing the little bit of liquid left in the bottle to dribble onto the floor as the glass clinks against the wood. 

“Dude!” Caleb says, kicking the bottle away, his movements slightly slowed from the alcohol undoubtedly in his system, “Goddamn it, I was _kidding_. Fuck whomever your dick desires, I don’t give a shit. I’m just glad you don’t bring him around much so that we don’t have to hear you guys buttfuck or whatever. No offense, dude. I’m sure you’re _great_. I’ve heard tons about you.”

“I am an interesting person to talk about,” Ezra shrugs, trying to come off as completely unbothered, “Hope you’re hearing all good things.”

Caleb scoffs, “I wouldn’t say _good_. I think you should back off of Mason before you fuck up his life, but whatever.”

“You know what?” Mason says suddenly as he turns around to walk back over to Caleb, “I’m done. Say one more word about him, I fucking dare you-”

“Mason,” Ezra says quickly, grabbing Mason around the waist to turn him around, “Mason, he is drunk. Let it go. Caleb, why don’t you go sleep it off? It’s a Saturday morning, you have plenty of time to rest and get back to what I am sure is your pleasant self. It was nice talking to you.”

Ezra only feels Mason struggle against him a little as they make their way to Mason’s room. He can tell that Mason actually does want to punch Caleb so he keeps his grip on him relatively tight until the door is shut behind them

“Alright,” Ezra says, sitting Mason down on the bed before looking down at him, “What was that?”

Mason shrugs, as if he has no idea, “Caleb being fucking racist and homophobic asshole?”

Ezra does smile a little at that and tries again, “I meant what was going on with you back there. Why did you blow up at him like that? Has he been harassing you?”

Mason looks away, “No more than usual. Can we just let it go?”

Ezra lets out a breath, looks up at the ceiling, to figure out how to approach this, then looks at Mason again, “I don’t want to be the cause of your friends turning on you. If our friendship - or whatever this is - is causing problems between you and the people you live with, then I want to know so that I can back off a little and not cause you problems-”

“What?” Mason says, turning his head to face Ezra again, “What do you...Ezra, shut the fuck up.”

Ezra’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “A lot of F bombs coming out of your mouth today.”

“Because what you just proposed is fucking stupid,” Mason says, a scowl firmly in place, “It’s almost as stupid as Caleb, Matt, and Ross are. It’s almost as stupid as living in this fucking house. I’m fucking done with it. I like Zane and Ronnie fine but Zane is probably going to end up moving in with Yas by September and Ronnie is graduating next year anyway. I’m done. I don’t want to live here with these assholes in the fall. I’m just fucking done with being in this house.”

Ezra frowns, “...Mason, are you okay? I haven’t really seen you this upset before. Just last night, you said you didn’t care what they thought.”

Mason sighs, “I don’t. I don’t care about whatever they speculate about. I’m just pissed off over how he was talking to you. How he was talking about you. I can mostly ignore it if they are making jabs at me. Apparently, I can’t if it’s you.”

Ezra watches Mason for a moment, just watches him sit there and stare at the window, as if he’d rather do that than look at Ezra once. So he sits down next to Mason on his bed instead, hoping to make things a little more relaxed.

“Well, don’t worry about me,” Ezra says, bumping Mason’s shoulder with his, “I can take the mildly homophobic and racist crap Caleb, Matt, and Ross throw my way. They’re just uneducated and dumb. No excuse, since they go to Dartmouth, but there are more hateful people out there.”

“I don’t care,” Mason mumbles, “No one should be like that. No one should talk to someone like that.”

“I know, and I agree,” Ezra says, throwing an arm around Mason, “But they probably do care about you. Them judging me likely comes from a place that wants the best for you. The same place that led them to try to set you up with Valentina. I’m truly curious about who this girl is that is so into you. I mean - don’t get me wrong - I HATE how Caleb described her - but she sounded pretty. Going by pictures of your past girlfriends, she sounded like she may be your type, although they were a somewhat diverse group so I can’t be sure. Why didn’t you go out with her last night?”

Mason looks at Ezra as if he’s being dense, “Because I was hanging out with you.”

“Okay, but I was working,” Ezra says, “And while I LOVE it when you come to see me, I would understand completely if you went to hang out with a girl who really likes you.”

Mason shrugs, then walks over to his closet and opens the door, “I barely know her. I’d rather be with you.”

Ezra leans back a little and stares at Mason’s back, “You realize that you tend to go out with people to get to know them, right? Like, you’d be in a group setting, make small talk, sequester yourselves into a corner after a few drinks for deeper conversation, maybe make out or hook up-”

“I don’t really do one night stands,” Mason says, sighing as he looks for his closet, “I thought you were going to do the whole queer eye routine for me today.”

“Well, you don’t particularly need it,” Ezra admits, “You dress as well as I do. Not as daring, but still extremely nice. But if you need my queer eye in your life, then I will definitely come and help you.”

Ezra jumps to his feet and walks over to Mason’s closet to sort through it, pick out a day outfit, then gets back on topic, “...You have to get to know a girl before dating her too. If you aren’t into one night stands, I get it, but I think you would make a wonderful boyfriend to a nice girl. You might consider meeting her if she’s really into you-”

“I’m not interested in her,” Mason says abruptly, before taking the clothes from Ezra’s hands and heading for the bathroom before Ezra can even comprehend Mason’s answer.

Why wouldn’t Mason be interested? Is it because Tri-Kappa is trying to set him up? Mason doesn’t seem all that happy with them right now, considering he just tried to fight one of their higher ranking members and went on a rant about wanting to move out of the house. It could definitely be Mason's way of cutting ties by not engaging. But Ezra feels like Mason would be happy if he found the right girl. It might hurt Ezra - more than he’d like to admit - but he’d rather have Mason find someone now before Ezra continues to fall harder for him. The sooner Mason finds a girlfriend, the sooner Ezra can truly work on demolishing the romantic feelings that have been becoming more intense. The longer Mason stays single, the longer Ezra is going to have hope that this can become a thing. 

He didn’t have hope before. Before, Ezra had been attracted to Mason but ultimately thought he was cute and probably straight. He briefly toyed with trying to seduce him the first night they met - Ezra had been in a mood and was briefly sliding back into old behaviors that week. But Mason had been sweet and genuine and sat with him as their friends took off towards different areas of the bar. He decided against it and continued to do so. That being said, he started to fall for him early. People saw that. Deirdre caught on fast. Willow did too, but that had probably been due to her ghost powers. Yas questioned their relationship more than once. Whatever they are catching onto is because of Ezra and his own feelings. It likely doesn’t have anything to do with Mason.

But Ezra has wondered about Mason and who he might be attracted to more recently. He has caught Mason looking at him. Mason has gone out of his way to help him, spend time with him frequently, and be a listening ear when Ezra is upset. He had a sad look on his face when he had told Ezra that he was lucky to have such accepting parents, that a lot of dads aren’t like that. It made Ezra wonder. It still makes him wonder. He’s tried to subtly give Mason the opportunity to talk about it - curiosities, experiences, possibly a conversation that might lead to a coming out of sorts. But Mason hasn’t caved and said anything. The closest Ezra has seen is non-denial, like out in the hallway and last night with Howard. Other than that, Mason hasn’t given him much. 

He’ll have to wait for Mason to bring up the subject himself. He’s not going to push it. The last thing he wants is to force Mason out of the closet if there is something going on or sacrifice his friendship because Mason is actually straight and can’t deal with the thought of Ezra having feelings for him. 

“You do realize that we are wearing almost the same thing with the colors reversed, right?”

Ezra turns at the sound of Mason’s voice, then looks down at his own outfit. White button up, fitting light blue denim chambray shorts, white sneakers. Looking at Mason, he sees that he gave him a light blue denim button up, white chino shorts, and white sneakers. Whoops. 

“You’ll have to let me borrow something else,” Ezra says, standing up, “Or we can go back to my apartment so that I can run in and change. You look too good. Super cute. You can’t change out of that, I’m telling you. The blue brings out your eyes and the white makes you look tanner than you can ever hope to be.”

Mason snorts, “You were saying such nice things and then you had to go and call me pasty.”

“Porcelain, Mason, give yourself more credit,” Ezra says, opening Mason’s closet door, “What can I wear until we get back over to my place?”

“Why do you have to change? You think you don’t look good?” Mason asks, pushing the closet door closed, “Because I can tell you that you really do.”

It’s this. This shit right here. The way Mason is standing just a tad too close as they essentially tell each other how hot they are. How is he supposed to take it any other way?

“Well,” Ezra says, clearing his throat, “I look hot in a lot of things, but thank you for liking this outfit specifically. What do you like about it? I truly want to know. Give me a good reason not to change.”

Mason shrugs and gives him a once over, “The white is very striking with your features. It makes your eyes look more dramatic and contrasts well with your hair and your skin tone.”

Not the most flirtatious line ever, but Ezra is starting to think Mason would be cast on Queer Eye before he would ever be.

“They’ll think we’re a couple,” Ezra points out gently, “That we coordinated our outfits to match for our day trip pictures.”

Mason squints, “Who is _they_? Some strangers and your Nana Glover’s ghost?”

“I don’t think she would judge us,” Ezra says, “She spoke Gaelic and barely any English so she probably won’t understand anything super gay that slips out of my mouth. It’s partly why they killed her for witchcraft. She couldn’t answer the questions they were asking her in English.”

“Uh huh, like I said, super messed up and tragic. She probably never even got a letter from Hogwarts,” Mason says.

“I still can’t figure out what house you are,” Ezra says, shaking his head sadly, “You’re a total conundrum to me. I thought for the longest time that you were a Hufflepuff, because you are such a good and loyal friend. But then you went all bad ass and dom on Professor Johnson and you became a Slytherin. But then to prep for all of that, you studied your ass off, so maybe you’re a Ravenclaw.”

“And my sister always insisted I was a Gryffindor. She was a super fan when we were kids,” Mason says, “So I guess I’m twenty-five percent of each one, while you’re one hundred percent, without a doubt a Gryffindor.”

“According to Pottermore, yes,” Ezra says, “You should take the test to find out.”

“That’s not the identity crisis that keeps me up at night,” Mason says under his breath. But before Ezra can really push Mason on that statement - because there is SO MUCH to unpack there - Mason clears his throat and walks over to the door, “I don’t care what your dead grandma thinks. I don’t care what strangers think either.”

Ezra watches him open the bedroom door and lets out a sigh, “And what if Caleb is out there and says something?”

Mason huffs in amusement, “He’s already been saying shit. And the guy has the worst taste in fashion I have ever seen in my life. He’ll resort to other hints before he even glances at our clothes.”

“What other hints?” Ezra has to ask, but Mason is already out of the room and ready to look like an outfit coordinating couple, like the quarter Gryffindor that he is.

Caleb must have decided to take Ezra’s advice and go sleep it off, because they don’t run into him once as they leave Tri-Kappa and get into Ezra’s car. Mason tried to insist on taking his car - better on gas, safer, blah blah blah. But Ezra honestly doesn’t trust Caleb to leave his car alone. She’s coming with them. She needs to get out and see the world anyway and not frat boys stumbling in and out of their house. All she needs is a non-stop trip on the open road. 

Well, they do make one stop. They only got three hours of sleep, after all. So once they are forty-five minutes into their trip, they stop at a gas station before going into a Starbucks down the road for two venti coffees. When their orders are called out and Ezra and Mason go up to get them, the ultra flamboyant barista takes one look at them and whispers, “You both are so cute together. Hashtag couple goals.”

And normally Ezra wouldn’t care. He actually doesn’t care. But he doesn’t want to put Mason to feel put on the spot. But before Ezra opens his mouth, Mason grabs both cups of coffee, hands Ezra his, and winks at the barista.

“Thanks, man.”

Seriously, what is Ezra supposed to make of _that_? And why is Mason suddenly so suave and confident? Is he still on some weird high from the budget proposal meeting? Is he just set on not giving a shit because of Caleb? But again, before Ezra can test him or question him on the spot, Mason is already walking away. 

“Come on, honey,” Mason calls out from a few feet away. What else is he supposed to do besides follow?

“What was that?” Ezra says as he gets into the car, the passenger seat this time since Mason insisted on switching, “ _Come on, honey_. Really?”

Mason shrugs as he starts the car, “You call me that sometimes. I just wanted to see what you’d do.”

Ezra just moves past that. He doesn’t know what to say, so he moves onto the barista instead. 

“I told you people would think we’re a couple,” Ezra says, “We go into one place and that’s the first thing they assumed.”

“And I told you that I don’t mind,” Mason says, letting out an exasperated sound before beeping the horn in front of the guy that swerves in front of them, “Are you fucking serious? Learn to drive!”

“Your aura is very strange right now,” Ezra decides, leaning back in his seat, “I’m taking a nap. Hopefully sweet and adorable Mason makes a reappearance when I wake up. Suave and sexy Mason is sort of bitchy.”

“Suave and sexy?” Mason asks, his tone changing, “Bitchy?”

“All of the above,” Ezra confirms, closing his eyes, “Night, _honey_.”

\----------------------------------

They make good time and make Salem their first stop. Despite it not being October, it is still crowded and parking is truly terrible. Mason looks like he is about to snap over it and it leads to Ezra looking up Pittsburgh drivers in general, because honestly? Other than this morning, Mason has never blown up over anything, at least from what Ezra has witnessed. But, now Mason has gotten frustrated in some capacity three times now. 

"It says here that Pittsburgh has some of the angriest drivers in the US," Ezra says, then glances at Mason, "Are you one of them?"

"Right now, maybe," Mason says before practically growling at a truck trying to get into a spot he obviously can't fit in, "Give up already. What the fuck?"

"I can't blame you," Ezra says, looking at pictures of Pittsburgh intersections, "Do they even know what a grid is? Was the person who mapped this shit out drunk?"

Mason lets out a relieved sigh when the truck finally gives up and leaves the spot so that Mason can take it, "They actually don't believe in mapping out in a grid. You might find a little bit of a grid in Oakland and Shadyside but it's rare. Basically, if your kid threw a huge handful of cooked spaghetti on the floor, that would be a road map of Pittsburgh."

"My kid would never do such a thing," Ezra claims.

Mason huffs out a laugh and finally puts the car in park, "You are one of the most delightfully chaotic people I have ever met. Your offspring wouldn't be any different."

Ezra beams, "Well, at least you think I'm delightful."

They stay on foot after that, heading straight for a cheap but supposedly quite haunted restaurant for lunch. In a Pig's Eye isn't the first restaurant Ezra would choose going by the menu alone. The same probably goes for Mason. But the food is cheap and it's supposedly haunted, so Ezra wants to know if he just sees a ghost in his restaurant or in all supposedly haunted restaurants.

"Willow is _not_ a ghost," Mason says as soon as they get seated and Ezra explains his logic in his choice. 

"She is," Ezra says seriously, "A super powerful one since she seems to be able to pop up whenever she wants, but I am telling you, over half of the staff there have no idea who I am talking about when I bring her up."

"Maybe she just isn't as close to them as you are," Mason says, "Or maybe they are just assholes."

"Even shift supervisors have no idea who I am referring to," Ezra tells him, "I thought to myself for a while, 'What if she isn't real? What if I am hallucinating?' but then you saw her so there was and continues to be no need to have you drive me over to a psychiatric hospital."

"Probably for the best. Your insurance is most likely out of network here," Mason says, but then gives him a mockingly fond look, "But your health takes first priority regardless. If you gotta be seen while we're here, then that's just how it has to be." 

"You'll have to lie," Ezra says, _possibly_ testing him, "Convince them you're my husband so that you can make decisions for me, at least until my parents get in."

"Won't be hard," Mason says, smiling a little, "I won't even need a ring. Our outfits would convince them immediately."

Before Ezra can respond, the waitress comes over to take their order and their conversation is relatively normal after that. Nothing is really said that can be disguised as a flirtation and no third parties make any subtle comments - well intentioned or otherwise. Ezra doesn't even see a ghost. That's how uneventful lunch is. 

Until he goes to the bathroom. 

It's a small, private bathroom. There are no other people in the next stall over so he knows no one is fucking with him when the light starts to flicker as he's washing his hands. His hands moving under the running water come to a halt as Ezra stares at the flickering lightbulb warily, swallowing before he looks down to turn off the water before looking back in the mirror.

"You are being ridiculous," Ezra tells himself, staring, "It's an old ass building with electrical issues and-"

But suddenly, Ezra's reflection isn't the only one in the mirror. A man, dressed simply in a loose white shirt, brown vest, and poofy black pants appears behind him and says, "Aye, the devil roams these streets. Is he in search of a strong ale? Shan't find it here, lest be judged impure." 

"...What?" Ezra gets out, staring at the reflection before quickly turning around to find no one there.

What. The. Fuck. 

Ezra stands there for a few moments, frozen in place, only to find himself dashing out of the bathroom when the light begins to flicker again. 

"Mason!" Ezra gets out as he practically slides in front of their table, "I saw a ghost! I really think I saw a ghost!"

Mason stares at him for a moment, then lets out a sigh, "I thought you were joking about the psychiatric hospital." 

"Come on come on come on!" Ezra says, tugging on Mason's arm until he slides out of the booth, "I met him in the bathroom. He's a pirate and he talked really weird. He doesn't approve of the beer here or something."

"...Okay, fine," Mason says, caving as he follows Ezra to the men's room and Ezra shuts the door behind him.

"I see no one," Mason says, glancing around the tiny bathroom.

"I saw him in the mirror," Ezra says, maneuvering Mason until they are both looking at their own reflections in silence. After a few minutes of nothing, Mason glances back at Ezra, looking out upon.

"Am I supposed to say Bloody Mary or something?" Mason asks, before staring back at the mirror, "Bloody Mary, Bloody Mar-"

"Don't you dare finish that!" Ezra says, clamping a hand over Mason's mouth, "If that's how you want to go down, then _fine_ , but I'm not getting torn to shreds by some malevolent phantom with conflicting folklore!"

Mason rolls his eyes, "Then how did this supposed ghost appear for…"

Mason trails off as the light next to the sink begins to flicker, the same way it had right before the ghost appeared. 

"This is what happened!" Ezra hisses, "The light flickered and then he appeared behind me."

"The only person behind me is you," Mason says, then reaches up to tighten the lightbulb, causing the flickering to stop altogether. 

Ezra pouts at the now cooperating light, "I saw a ghost! I swear I did. I wouldn't lie about that and I really don't think it was in my head because there’s no reason for me to hallucinate some random pirate. He even talked to me."

Mason turns around, leaning against the sink as their bodies still stay pressed together, "I didn't say you were lying."

Normally, this is where Ezra would go on a tangent about what the ghost looked like before dissecting what he said. Okay, not normally. Seeing a ghost other than possibly Willow isn't a normal occurance for him. But it's kind of hard to dive into that when Mason is still standing so close to him. Ezra supposes that it's on him to step back, not that there is tons of space to. It really is a tiny bathroom. But the way Mason is looking at him? It doesn't seem like he _wants_ Ezra to move away. He's just staring at him as if he's waiting for something. For what? Ezra isn't one hundred percent sure. 

"Oh, shit." 

Both of them turn their heads quickly at the sound of the voice, only to see a mildly surprised man standing in the doorway.

"Sorry to interrupt," he says, backing out a little, "Carry on. I'll uh...I'll use the women's room. Never been one to interrupt young love."

Before any denials can be made, the man closes the bathroom door, leaving them alone again.

"Well, at least he's not calling the cops on us for public indecency," Mason says, pushing himself away from the sink and squeezing past Ezra to get to the door.

"There is nothing indecent about ghost hunting and trying to help a pirate ghost find peace. Or a strong ale. That's what he wanted. He told me," Ezra says as he follows Mason out of the bathroom, the light by the sink flickering once more behind them. 

\------------------------

They explore a couple museums, gift shops, cemeteries, and old historical sites first by walking along the heritage trail. Mason might possibly buy him and Ezra matching shirts that they will likely never wear, just because Ezra is so stuck on the coordinating outfit thing. He's not the only one. While exploring the bigger landmarks, they are asked by various couples and families to take their pictures, only to be offered to have their picture taken in return.

"Got to make sure we get full body shots," one 40-something year old single mother gushes as she snaps away. Her teenage daughter looks mildly embarrassed and annoyed, while her son just looks amused. 

"Oh, you boys are so cute together!" the woman says, walking back over to hand Ezra back his camera, "My little girl over there is a lesbian!"

"You really don't have to shout it," the girl says, sounding like it's not the first time she's said that, but her mother waves her off, her dangling rainbow earrings swaying as she turns back to them. 

"Her dad didn't take it well, but I took her on a road trip to celebrate. It's so good to see other gay couples out and about. She _needs_ to see happy and perfect couples like you, to know that she can be happy too. I think it's just wonderful. You're both wonderful!"

"Hear that, _honey_?" Ezra says, throwing his arms around Mason to put him in more of a hold from behind as he traps Mason's arms to his sides, "We are wonderful."

Mason rolls his eyes at Ezra's words but then actually gives a soft look at the woman, "It's nice that you are so supportive of her. She's lucky."

Mason feels Ezra's hold on him tighten just slightly after he says the words. When the woman says her goodbyes and Mason reluctantly reaches up to pat Ezra's forearms, Ezra lets go.

They stumble upon a shop advertising psychic readings by accident. He hadn't thought Ezra was serious when he mentioned getting that done but once they see the sign, Ezra's eyes light up and he's leading Mason across the street until they're inside.

"You should go first," Ezra says to him as they approach the clerk at the register, "Do we pay up front? I'll get his reading, my treat. How much for two thirty minute readings?"

"One hundred and twenty dollars," the girl says, "But my dad is legit, so he's completely worth it. I can't see anything but I can't get away with shit when it comes to him. It's really annoying." 

"You are not spending that much," Mason warns him as he gets out his card, "I'll pay if you really want one done-"

" _No_ ," Ezra stresses, then turns back to the girl, "What about two fifteens? Probably better for our schedule anyway."

"It's supposed to be sixty," the girl says, but gives Ezra a once over, "But you're hot so I'll give it to you for fifty. So hot."

"I do appreciate having pretty privilege," Ezra says, putting a hand to his chest, "But you shouldn't be flirting with men who have at least five years on you. What are you, seventeen?"

"Sixteen," the girl says, then glances at Mason, "And I'm just stating facts. I'm not flirting. Obviously, you're taken. I'm not a homewrecker."

It should alarm Mason when her words initially sound completely reasonable to his ears. Although, he supposes it makes sense. They've been mistaken as a couple all day. They have coupley pictures on their phones from well meaning, open-minded tourists. He and Ezra had routinely taken turns on who was going to be the bolder and more affectionate one for those. It almost became a game. It hadn't been hard. He and Ezra have a tendency to be physically affectionate with one another. Mason is so used to the assumption at this point that he's starting to forget he and Ezra actually aren't a couple. The dreams he’s had and the overanalyzing he’s done the last month or so don’t really help.

But before Mason can ponder the words anymore, the sound of a woman's tearful voice comes from the back of the shop, growing louder as she approaches the front with a man donning a soft tone and caring expression.

"He is at peace now," the man says, touching the woman's arm, "Don't you worry about that. And he wants you to open the bookstore back up. Share that piece of him with others who didn't have the pleasure of meeting him."

The woman stares at the man with wide eyes, "How did you know about the store? It's been closed for years. Never had the heart to sell it or rent it out but…"

She trails off and walks out of the store, almost in a daze. The man stands there dressed very simply, scanning the front room with piercing - a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and a pair of jeans, the only sign that he might be new agey being his greying ponytail.

"So, who's first?" The man asks, then locks eyes with Ezra, "Why are you insisting in your head that I pick him first? There's nothing to be afraid of yet you're practically chanting it. I usually can't pick up on individual thoughts. You project so much. Such a commanding presence. Loud. You'll be easy to read." 

Mason tries not to laugh at Ezra's deer caught in the headlights expression, "So you _did_ pick a legitimate one."

The man zeros in on him, "You'll be harder. Your present reading won't be as in depth as his and you are blocking me from your past. I'm not sure why. You're doing a very good job. Your future is coming at me in waves though. It's a surprisingly set one. Usually, reading those visions ends up being conflicting. So many possibilities, so many paths. But yours...hmmm. Very set."

Mason doesn't know how to interpret that. At all. He doesn't even know if he wants to know his supposed future. But Ezra apparently does, since he's pushing him towards the guy. 

"You go first," he says, "You heard my brain. It insists. Am I allowed to go in with him or-"

"Normally, I wouldn't mind," the man says, before giving Ezra a once over, "But I'm going to say no this time. Your presence is just so dominant and powerful. It doesn't mean to be. It's just your natural and authentic disposition, so don't take it personally. I haven't come across someone with an aura like yours in a _long_ time. No wonder spirits are attracted to you. You met the pirate at the tavern just today. I believe his name is William. No idea how he passed."

Ezra's eyes brighten and he looks absolutely vindicated as turns to Mason, "I TOLD you I talked to a pirate ghost! Did you believe me? No. But now you know I have psychic powers and you HAVE to say that you were wrong and are just a powerless mortal."

"I'm not giving you that kind of satisfaction," Mason tells him, biting his cheek so that he won't laugh at Ezra's absolute glee. 

"I wouldn't call him powerless," the psychic muses, "Like I said, he's blocking me quite well, abnormally well. I think he might have a gift too. Wouldn't surprise me. Those with undeveloped abilities tend to attract each other and look at the two of you."

Ezra opens his mouth to say something but before he can get a word out, the psychic says, "If you want me to focus on him and not the two of you as a pair, then please take the time to browse."

Ezra pouts a little, before letting out a sigh and walking over to the books, "You better tell me everything he says!"

Mason follows the man - now known as Buzz - into the back room before taking a seat across from him. The man shuffles some tarot cards, before spreading them out. 

"I prefer to read the clients who choose shorter time slots, rather than read a bunch of cards. No celtic cross today. Pick the three that you are the most drawn to for a past, present, and future spread. It will help me narrow down your past and present a little. The third one is for your future but it's just for good measure. I can already see that," Buzz says, "What are you interested in knowing?"

Mason gives him a blank stare. He doesn't know. What is he supposed to ask? He doesn't really want to ask about his career. Asking about what the hell he is going to do with everything he's written is a little more tempting, but not at the top of his priority list. Whether or not he'll find love is more intriguing but he doesn't have a specific question and it's probably a cliche thing to ask about anyway. 

"Will I be happy?" Mason asks instead. 

Buzz lets out a breath and almost seems annoyed, "So incredibly vague. Well, go on. Pick three that you're drawn to and set them down on the table. Leave them face down until I tell you to turn them over.

As Mason picks three cards, hoping he is coming off as _drawn_ enough to them, Buzz continues to speak, "You're very guarded. I haven't met a presence like you in quite a while. You know exactly how to keep people from reading you and get them to divert their attention elsewhere. The only one who has gotten past that at all is the boy standing out in the shop. He's extremely dedicated to you in a way you never experienced until you met him. He's the only part of your present that is coming at me in waves."

Mason stares at Buzz, "Is this a part of my reading?"

Buzz comes off as nonchalant, "More of an observation. Let's start with your past. If I truly can't get anything right, I'll let you pick a book to take home for free, considering you paid already."

Buzz flips over the first card in the line, immediately wincing at the sight of it. 

"Nine of swords," Buzz says, staring at it thoughtfully, "My least favorite card. But it is reversed. It could be worse. Could be upright. There is some hope when it is reversed. Did you face some kind of significant trauma? An assault of some sort? Something that made such an impact on you that it likely still causes you to have nightmares?"

Mason swallows and looks away at the words. Surprisingly, Buzz doesn't push the matter further.

"You _will_ heal from it," he says more softly, "Reversed in this case means you will find someone who helps you open up about this event from your past - a romantic partner, according to my visions. It is your life partner, if your future continues to stay on the same set path that I saw, which I believe that it will. You will feel comfortable confiding in them, more comfortable than you've ever felt talking to anyone else. It will get worse before it gets better. A lot of reflection needs to happen. But you are going to let someone in, tell them the darkest part of your past, and not only accept their comfort, but embrace it. This person will be your confidante. It will be someone who knows you intimately on many levels and will want to help you. Accept their help and their love."

Mason clears his throat and blinks several times before he trusts himself to speak, "That sounds like a future reading. I thought this was just about the past."

Buzz shakes his head, "Your past always influences your future in one way or another. It stays with you. Whether you let it destroy you or you overcome it is mostly up to you. This indicates you will come to terms with it and be able to talk about it more openly once you're able to process with the person I was talking about." 

Mason doesn't know what to say to that. He has nothing to say to it. So all he does is reach over and flip over the middle card. 

"The lovers," Buzz says, smiling, seeming to have a glint in his eye, "The Lovers can actually indicate something other than romantic love yet it always represents soulmates. Your soulmate can be a sibling, parent, cousin, or friend. We do have more than one. It would be dangerous not to, in case one passes. However, considering how clear your future was, I believe that the soulmate this card is referring to recently entered your life - probably within the last few months - and is undoubtedly your romantic soulmate. And from what I have seen, you will be devoted to each other and very much in love for several decades. As long as you both shall live, as they say. You've already started on that path."

A weird feeling makes itself known in Mason's chest, "I'm single."

"Are you though?" Buzz says in what sounds like a knowing voice. Mason opens his mouth to reiterate that he is but Buzz is already waving off any denials he has, "Why don't you flip over your future card? I'm sure it will match up with what I just said and what I have seen."

Mason looks at the card warily before turning it over.

"The World," Buzz says, then stares at him head on, "You asked if you will be happy? You will be. Very balanced life, harmonious and fulfilled. You will be very accomplished and successful in both of your careers and eventually you will focus solely on the one you are the most passionate about. When it comes to love, this card usually means the next level. The path you are on has you entering a loving, supportive, and passionate marriage. Both of you are creative individuals and will encourage each other immensely which ensures your mutual success. The apartment you get is a shockingly nice and spacious one, considering you are both very young when you move there. Family connection on your side, I believe. Any questions? Ones that aren't so vague?"

Mason bites the inside of his cheek and shrugs, "You said I already met the person I am going to end up with for good. What's their name?"

Buzz smirks, "Now, THAT would be toying with fate. There are a few powerful psychics who would have no problems in giving you that answer, but I'm not one of them."

"Initials?" Mason tries again but Buzz shakes his head. 

"Not doing it," Buzz tells him, then tilts his head, "I would be willing to give you one hint, but I'm not sure if it will send you into a panic or not."

Mason scoffs, "I'm sure I can handle it."

Buzz nods, "Your soulmate - the soulmate you end up marrying - is a man. I'm willing to give you that much information." 

Mason blinks, then studies Buzz carefully, "I've um...I've never been with a guy before so I'm not sure if you're seeing it right or not-"

"I am," Buzz interrupts, "You've been questioning some of your feelings recently, haven't you? I think you know that you are open to the possibility. Just don't keep doubting those feelings. Don't fight them or tell yourself you're confused. You're not. Can you honestly tell me that you would deny yourself such happiness if you found it with someone who happened to be a man?"

"...No," Mason says, his dad staring at him in disgust and disappointment flashing through his brain, but then ends up telling Buzz the truth, "Not if he really makes me happy and I'm in love with him."

"Well, there you go," Buzz says, standing up, "No other questions?"

Mason stares at Buzz, trying not to feel overwhelmed, "No kids then?"

Buzz waves off the question, "Not of your own, but you and your partner choose to adopt three. You will both have a wonderful relationship with all of them."

"Alright," Mason says, standing up and feeling more confused than ever, "Uh...thanks, I guess."

"Just keep doing what you're doing," Buzz says as he leaves, "Don't question yourself or your feelings. It will just delay the inevitable."

He doesn’t know what to think when he goes back out front. He doesn’t give Ezra anything to go off of when Mason passes him in the store. He’s too lost in his thoughts. It's probably a bullshit reading anyway. The shit Buzz guessed right about his past was probably a lucky guess, fueled by a shitty card and Mason's reaction. That is what Mason continues to tell himself, even when he's out in the shop and Ezra follows Buzz to the back. He looks around what are probably bullshit books and bullshit crystals and bullshit pendulums. He doesn't even know _why_ he feels so put off right now. He's not even upset over the guy thing. Maybe it's because the reading is likely fake but on the off chance it isn't, most of what Buzz said sounded really nice. Yet, for some reason, Mason can't appreciate any of it. Maybe it's because Mason had learned not to get his hopes up about things and he can't appreciate some happily ever after since that's just not how things work in life. At all. So yeah, he's choosing to take the reading with a truckload of salt.

\------------------

Ezra doesn't even know what to expect when he goes to the back room to sit down. He hadn't had a chance to grill Mason about his reading before Buzz called him back. So when he's across from him and he's picking three cards to set out on the table, he honestly feels like he's going into this blind.

Three of swords reversed," Buzz says as he stares down at the card, "You faced some significant trauma a few years ago. It made such a high impact that it left a mark on your soul. It dealt with death in the family, did it not?"

"Um…" Ezra says hoarsely. Should he give him anything on that? Is he even supposed to?

"One was a soulmate," Buzz says sadly, "Both meant a great deal to you and had a horrific effect on you in different ways, but one was a soulmate. You held onto that pain for a couple of years before it caught up to you and caused such anguish, a breakdown of sorts that scared you. You're scared of what it says about you. That it might happen again."

"Uh…" Ezra says, his hands shaking as he squeezes his eyes shut, "You...You're wrong on the soulmate thing. You're probably talking about my cousin. We definitely weren't into each other like that."

Buzz shakes his head, "She wasn't your romantic soulmate, nor was she your only soulmate. Everyone has at least a few - usually a mix of platonic soulmates and romantic ones. People who meet a soulmate who ends up being their significant other are actually extremely lucky. This particular soulmate was platonic, but still shared a very deep bond with you. I see...I see you looking at what I believe is her body. This was distressing for you and you suffered another immense loss right after, which is what led to a mental health crisis of sorts?"

Ezra tries to shrug, then bites his lip to keep himself from going into a panic. Buzz leans in closer and pats Ezra's knee, "It's reversed and it's in the past. You don't need to worry. You are better. Your mind is healthy again. You still grieve for your losses and are upset by how they happened, but you want to look towards your future. You will have a lot of support and love coming your way once you open up to more people about what you went through. Why don't we move on? See what the present has in store."

Move on. That's a good idea, really fucking good idea. One more mention of what happened before will have him bawling or freaking out or running out of the shop. So before Ezra can dwell on it anymore, he turns over the middle card.

"The Lovers," Buzz says, looking amused and almost gleeful, "Speaking of soulmates, you recently met another one. This one is your romantic soulmate. You are one of the lucky ones. I see you spending a very long life with this person. I see a wedding. You are a bit more in touch with how you feel than they are at the moment but only because you've been surrounded by acceptance. This person hasn't experienced that and has trouble opening up, but I promise that his feelings are just as intense."

Ezra tries to clear his head by trying to take on a lighter tone, "...His? So I'm ending up with a guy? The shock my family will go through-"

"Your parents expected it and initially thought you liking women was a phase. You and I both know that they value your happiness above all else, regardless of whom you end up with. They would like to see you settle down and be in an actual relationship though. They may accept your previously impulsive sex life, but they do worry about you getting hurt by it. They will love your partner very, very much and see him as another son," Buzz says, "So don't be sarcastic or mouthy when it comes to their love for you. Luckily, your soulmate enjoys your mouth."

Ezra squints, "Is that a euphemism?"

Buzz closes his eyes and acts as though he is silently asking one of his ghost friends for patience - a normal response Ezra sees from the various people in his life, "Why don't we turn over the future card?"

Ezra sits back, "But I want to hear about my new man and now you're playing coy. You say I met him recently-"

"He's out in the front of the store," Buzz says abruptly, causing Ezra to freeze, "I gave him a few hints but I will just tell you upfront because I don't see you second guessing anything when it comes to...well, just about anything, but especially your feelings for him. Normally not my style, to just tell you who you are going to spend your life with, but it is very clear you already have feelings for him."

Ezra lets out a breath, then forces himself to laugh a little, "Look, I'm aware that we look like a couple today but Mason is actually straight-"

"No, he's not," Buzz says, rolling his eyes as if that's preposterous, "I know I said I couldn't read him well and there are several things about that boy that make me draw a blank. But when I told him he would end up with a man, all he said is that he hasn't been with a guy before. He never said he wasn't into them, just simply that he lacks experience with them in an intimate sense. He never once claimed he was straight or denied he's been questioning a lot of things. I thought telling him that he would end up with a man might upset him or - hopefully - give him a little clarity on his identity. I believe it may lead to the latter. He admitted he would pursue the relationship if the man in question made him happy and he was in love with him, then asked about kids. He just doesn't know the man in question is you."

"I don't…" Ezra starts before trailing off, honestly feeling more overwhelmed than it sounds like Mason felt.

"The two of you adopt three children, by the way," Buzz says, sounding casual about the fucking bombshells he's dropping, "I'm sure your future card is a good one. Why don't you flip it over?"

Ezra doesn't know what else to do but follow the suggestion.

"The Sun," Buzz says, sounding satisfied, "You will live a very fulfilling and satisfying life. Your marriage will be wonderful, you will have a wonderful relationship with your children and your family, along with your husband's family after a couple of hiccups with his mother. Your charisma and magnetic personality ensures your success. I see the two of you becoming financially successful but very giving with your wealth. You and your partner will have a couple of upsetting things happen in the next few years, but you will get through them together and the good outweighs the bad by far. Any other questions?"

Ezra can't do anything but shake his head.

It isn't until he's walking out of the room that all of the things just said hit him. He feels overwhelmed by what was said about Mason, but he can dismiss those things as fraudulent claims, even though Ezra can honestly say he doesn't want to. Because focusing on those good things that might happen could distract him from the bad things from his past Buzz talked about that definitely DID happen. So does that make the future true? Does that make the fact that he said Mika was a soulmate true? It hurt enough when he lost her and now it's just opening old wounds. 

He feels like his mind is everywhere. He doesn't even realize he's crying when he walks past Mason and out of the store. He needs to get outside. He doesn’t even stop when he hears Mason call out his name before yelling at Buzz, “What did you say to him?!” Ezra just continues to walk until a hand lands on his shoulder and stops him in his tracks.

"Hey," Mason says as he turns Ezra around, "What's wrong? What happened?"

Ezra wipes at his face quickly and immediately tries to pull it together, "Nothing. It was just some stuff that he said."

"What did he say?" Mason asks, "Are you dying of cancer, are you going to get hit by a car-"

"No, it wasn't like that," Ezra say, sniffling, "He just said some stuff about my cousin and my aunt. About something that happened before too."

Mason opens his mouth but Ezra can’t get into this right now. He doesn’t want questions, he doesn’t want comfort. He just wants to put his mind on something else.

"Let's go get a coffee. I want coffee," Ezra insists before taking Mason's hand to drag him along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I just posted chapter 4 but I wanted to put up Chapter 5 so you all would have something longer to read. :) Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think!


	6. Mid June 2014, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra and Mason hear even more about their questionable future from a different and unsolicited source, head to Boston, and prepare for the night ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for drunken shenanigans and recreational marijuana usage.

"I wouldn't get too upset about whatever you're upset about," Mason says softly as they sit across from each other at one of the tables, the sun reflecting off of the stained glass surface, "A lot of that stuff is made up and based on what you give him or how you react."

Ezra shrugs, not sure what he should even bring up with Mason, "I didn't really tell him anything. He just knew about my past. Some stuff that happened that I don't really talk about. Stuff he couldn't have known."

"Well…" Mason starts, then lets out a sigh, "He was probably more vague than you think he was. You were most likely applying whatever he was saying to something you were thinking about. I know he did the same thing with me. I got the nine of swords reversed for the past? I guess that's a really bad card but a little better when it's upside down. I don't see what difference it makes."

"It tends to take on a more hopeful tone if it is originally a bad card. Or an iffy meaning if it's a good card," Ezra says, then watches Mason really closely, "Was he right about anything he said about you?"

Mason shrugs and looks down at his drink, "He was on point about something that happened in my past. And maybe about something else. I don't know."

Ezra nods, still keeping his eyes on Mason, "Vague, but alright. If you don’t want to talk about the past or present, then tell me. What does the future hold for Mason Taylor?"

"Um…" Mason starts, "I guess I get married and stay married to my soulmate or whatever. And adopt three kids with them. We both end up being successful."

"...Hmm," Ezra says, not being able to come up with much else since Mason conveniently left out his soulmate supposedly being a guy. 

"Yeah," Mason says, then meets Ezra's eyes, "What did he say about your future?"

Ezra tries to shrug nonchalantly, "Pretty much the same thing."

Mason stares at him for a moment, his expression unreadable, "He might uh...he might be going off a script and gives the same fortune out to everyone."

"Probably so," Ezra says, then tries to snap himself out of his weird mood, "I'm sorry for freaking out over nothing back there. You probably think I'm being dramatic."

"No," Mason says, shaking his head, "I don't think that. I know Mika and Una are both hard subjects for you. I don't uh...I don't want to push you to tell me what happened but you can talk about it, if you want."

Ezra nods, but then winces at the thought of it, "Not right now. Maybe...Maybe soon."

Things almost get back to normal. Almost. They explore a few different historical sites, share a piece of pie at a bakery, and wander in and out of different stores with a various themes - some mystical or magical, and some that have nothing to do with the topic and allow Ezra to push different clothes and pants into Mason's arms, insisting that he try them on. Ezra is surprisingly able to take his mind off the reading from before. If Mason can act indifferent and disbelieving, then so can he. 

It isn't until they walk into one of the last stores they go to in Salem that fate laughs at the attempt. 

"I would like to give you boys a couples' reading,'' the woman says from her spot behind the counter, mere minutes after they walk in. 

Ezra can't even think of what to say to that. To be honest, he doesn't _want_ another reading - for multiple reasons. He can feel Mason's eyes on him, studying him for what might be a sign if he's going to talk first or not. The thing is, he has nothing to say. It would take too much energy.

"...We already had a reading," Mason ends up saying after Ezra stays mum, "And you're not off to the best start. We're not a couple." 

Sassy. That's all Ezra can think of Mason's words to ignore the feeling of disappointment they bring. 

The woman locks eyes with Mason, then slowly smiles, "Nonsense. You will be soon enough. Come on. To the back. And Ezra, stop wondering about the cost. It's my treat. I am known for my very occasional generosity."

It doesn't even click that the woman knows his name until she goes through the bead covered doorway. 

"Come on!" She calls out, "Neither of us have all day. You need to get Mason back by a certain time, don't you? I would _hate_ to ruin the surprise." 

“What a manipulative, know-it-all bitch,” Ezra mutters, all while Mason looks at him curiously.

“How did she even know our names?” Mason asks quietly - way too quietly for the woman to hear, Ezra knows that much. Yet she still answers. 

“You _did_ walk into a shop owned by arguably the most powerful psychic on the east coast,” the woman calls out, “Now, come on! Your energies fascinate me.”

Ezra thinks about just walking out and dragging Mason with him. What can the woman even do if he does that? But Mason is already walking towards the back and reaching for the hanging beads.

“Mason!” Ezra hisses, “Mason! No! I don’t want to do this again. The last time was creepy enough-”

“She’ll probably give us something completely different,” Mason says, looking back behind his shoulder, “Come on, it’ll be funny.”

“It will _not_ -” Ezra starts, only for Mason to disappear from view completely. 

Great. Just great.

He could just wait. Let Mason get the reading if that’s what he actually wants. But if Mason gets some sensitive information about them, Ezra could see his friend keeping it to himself. Ezra honestly can’t say he wants Mason to know something about any kind of potential between the two of them before Ezra knows. Ezra is the one with the crush. Ezra is the one probably giving other people couple vibes. It’ll be embarrassing if a psychic tells Mason that Ezra is falling for him before Ezra fesses up. The admission may end with an awkward ‘I’m really sorry I’m feeling this way. This doesn’t have to mean anything. I’m sure I’ll get over it’ but Ezra should be the one to ultimately say it, if he’s ever going to say it at all.

So Ezra walks to the back of the store, pulls the beads aside, and walks into the back room.

“Ah, so he _is_ joining us,” the woman says, Mason already sitting across from her, looking too underwhelmed for the situation at hand in Ezra’s opinion, “My name is Adelaide. I don’t normally do this, but your energies and your futures just hit me like a ton of bricks and while both of your pasts are filled with pain in their own ways, your futures - for the most part - are filled with such happiness, fulfillment, and love. Sit next to your man, sweetie. Don’t be nervous.”

Ezra looks at Mason, who is conveniently not looking back at him, “...My man, huh?”

Before he can dwell on the notion too much, he forces himself to sit down in the seat next to Mason, only to find Adelaide staring into his eyes so intently that Ezra sits back in his seat. 

“Okay,” Adelaide nods, letting go of his hand, “Now join hands with your mate.”

Ezra gives her a sour look, “My _mate_ -”

“Just humor her until we can leave,” Mason says under his breath as he takes Ezra’s hand in his, not just cupping their hands together, but interlacing their fingers together. It gives him a distinct flashback of when he came out to Mika and told her he liked boys before revealing to her he thought he had a boyfriend but wasn’t sure.

_“Why aren’t you sure?” Mika asks, watching in amusement as Ezra dances and jumps around his aunt’s and uncle’s living room with pure excitement, “And why did you wait for my mom and dad to leave to tell me? You know they won’t care. Aunt Cheyenne and Uncle Hotah won’t either.”_

_Ezra rolls his eyes before hopping off the couch, “Duh. I know they love me. But I got to figure out if I have a boyfriend first! I’m not going to tell them that I have one and then find out that I don’t. But Kosa and I held hands, Mika! We held hands on the bus and under the table in the cafeteria! That HAS to mean something._

_Mika taps her chin, “Were your fingers laced together or were they just cupped? There’s a difference. One is a maybe and one is definitely._

_Ezra walks over to her and laces his fingers with Mika’s in demonstration, “They were like this.”_

_“Hmm…” Mika says, then nods, “He definitely likes you likes you then._

Ezra had been seven when that conversation happened. Mika was a few months away from turning eleven. Despite that, Ezra had thought everything she said had been right. 

“Mika likes this one, by the way. A lot.”

_That_ snaps Ezra out of his thoughts.

“What…” Ezra starts, swallowing past a lump in his throat as he barely notices Mason’s hold on his hand tighten, “I don’t-”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take you off guard,” Adelaide says gently, “But she wanted me to tell you that she adores Mason and is so excited for the two of you to get together. She’s also excited for your play to debut. She misses you so very much. And your aunt wants me to tell you that she’s so sorry. She didn’t mean to put you through what she did. She wasn’t in her right mind and she was in a lot of pain. She isn’t in pain anymore, she’s with her daughter, but she misses you and your uncle more than anything-”

“I can’t do this,” Ezra says, breathing in and out quickly, “I can’t hear this right now-”

“You said this was a couple’s reading, right? And that our futures are fantastic?” Mason says, interrupting as he scoots his chair closer to Ezra, not letting go of his hand once, “Get started on that. If you have to talk about anything shitty, it better be focused on me or we’re leaving. You’re upsetting him.”

Adelaide sighs and gives Ezra a sad glance, “I apologize. They were right next to me. I’m surprised you didn’t sense them. You do have a gift - an undeveloped one, but still. Although, you don’t like to talk about them much. Barely at all. I can see you blocking them out specifically. They understand and they just want you to know that they love you. Also, your uncle _will_ be okay. He has been in a lot of pain, but he will actually continue to get better, slowly but surely. His brain will heal to the point where he can live independently. He will even meet a nice woman - a widow - whom he will care about greatly. Your aunt wants him to heal and be as happy as he can be. She's been worried that he may follow her but I assure you, despite his current feelings, he will find some happiness again-"

“Stop,” Mason warns, letting go of Ezra’s hand to put his arm around him, “You good? We can ditch her."

Ezra shrugs half-heartedly, afraid to speak and afraid to lean into Mason's touch like he wants to. Before he can dwell on doing either, Adelaide changes the subject. 

“Your father is going to die of a drug overdose on his forty-fifth birthday.”

Adelaide’s words have Ezra quickly looking up in fear. His dad’s forty-fifth birthday is in December, just a few days after Ezra’s twenty-third. His dad doesn’t DO drugs, what the fuck is she saying to him? Has his dad taken up drugs? Did Ezra’s mother not tell him so that he wouldn’t worry? He’s going to be fucking sick-

“Not your father, Ezra,” Adelaide says pointedly, “Your father won’t even drink beer. I promise that he won’t die from a heroin overdose. Both of your parents will live long and healthy lives. I was referring to Mason’s father. His biological father, anyway. Not much of a father at all though, is he?”

Ezra looks at Mason, trying to see how hearing that even makes him feel, but Mason’s expression is surprisingly blank.

“Okay,” Mason says, shrugging, “I’m not close with him, haven’t talked to him in years, and only met him a few times anyway. If you’re trying to get me upset, saying that isn’t really going to work. He’s an asshole.”

“That’s an understatement,” Adelaide says, “I’m not saying it to upset you. I just figured you should know. I saw the event flash through my head and that usually means that I should say something. It doesn’t mean you need to intervene. I mean, you can try, but I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. When it happens, the news doesn’t particularly affect you, just like it doesn’t affect you now. If anything, it helps close a painful chapter of sorts. I won’t say it, but you know what I’m talking about.”

Ezra watches Mason’s face go from genuinely blank to very purposefully so. It’s a subtle difference, but a difference nonetheless. 

“Your mother takes it harder than you would expect though,” Adelaide says, looking at nothing, “Not because she loves him. She never loved him. But your conception was a painful and traumatic circumstance for her. It wasn’t consensual-”

“You’re lying,” Mason says, sounding understandably harsh, “She said she was drunk and made a stupid decision.”

Adelaide shakes her head, “She was a fifteen year old girl pressured to drink by her twenty-one year old boyfriend. She was almost unconscious when he did what he did. She downplays it as a coping mechanism. Anyway, his death does make her re-evaluate what happened before. Your relationship will smooth out again by the time that happens, so please check in on her when he does pass.”

Mason gives her a grim look, “So that’s it? You called us back here to upset us and stress us out? You’re not a psychic, you’re a sadist.”

“I say things as they come,” Adelaide says simply, seemingly not affected by Mason’s insult, “I was drawn to you for a reason and I just let myself say what comes to me when that happens. But you’re right. Let’s get to the good things.”

Ezra watches Adelaide, feeling dumbfounded as her eyes roll back in her head and she begins to whisper what sounds like a foreign language underneath her breath before her eyes look normal again. 

“You’re winning an Emmy in a few years,” Adelaide says happily, as if she hadn’t just been possessed, “When you graduate, you’ll move to a big city. You work in public relations for a while and have an understanding boss who encourages you to go on auditions and gives you opportunities to work from home or off-site. Your starting rate is higher than a lot of similar positions at other companies but it's the frequent bonuses you get after big events with a lot of sales that really give you both a running start once you're there. I see you developing a close friendship with this boss. Eventually, you too, Mason. I would say who he is, but it will confuse both of you right now-"

"Everything you are saying is confusing," Mason says bluntly but Adelaide waves him off. 

"Anyway, _Ezra_ , you end up being a huge asset and do stay involved as a consultant of sorts for a good while. But you do end up getting a role as a supporting lead on the second season of a dark drama. I believe it’s on FX. I’m seeing that logo. You know the head cinematographer. He actually becomes your brother-in-law through this one here.”

“Huh?” Mason says, sounding like he has been thrown for a loop by this woman too much to react to much. Honestly, Ezra feels the same. 

“Oh, Molly is going to start seeing someone in December,” Adelaide informs Mason, “I know you worry about her and are protective of her after what happened with Seth, but she has known this man for several years now. He’s three or four years older than her. When they first got to know each other, she was only 19. They had crushes on each other but he didn’t want to be in a short term fling with her because he respected her and he felt she was a little too young at the time. So they’ve been curious about each other for a while but won’t take that step until this coming December. It’s long distance at first. He lives in LA and works as a cinematographer. But by the end of next year, they will be moving to a new city together and your sister will be getting acceptance letters into med schools. He has a cat that he brings with him and they adopt a puppy. You and Ezra actually do like him a lot and become close with him. I see you bickering with him as if he were an older brother, but you really appreciate how much he loves, respects, and cares for Molly. As for Molly...there is a close call with her. There will be a moment where you and your loved ones believe that she might not make it-"

" _What?_ " Mason says, gritting his teeth, "Where the fuck do you get off saying this shit?"

"She makes a full recovery," Adelaide quickly says, "It's just touch and go for a while and it really devastates your future brother-in-law. He won't leave her side in the hospital. I can see him sitting there next to her quite clearly. You and Ezra are there visiting her frequently the time she's there. Not hard at all, considering the two of you will be living very close to her by the time next December hits-”

“I won’t be done with college yet,” Mason says, “I’m ahead, but I’ll probably need at least one class my last semester. So you're wrong.”

“You choose to do a work study to complete your requirements,” Adelaide says dismissively, “You don’t care about staying for that last semester, not when so many of your friends are at least a year older and especially not when your boyfriend knows he needs to live somewhere with more opportunities sooner rather than later. He’s willing to do the long distance thing for a few months so that you can stay near Dartmouth until you graduate, but you aren’t. You will find a job that fulfills the requirement in the same city and move together. Not surprising. You will be living together for over a year at that point. It’s no wonder that long distance doesn’t appeal to you. You’re moving in together at the beginning of September, by the way. Cutest little house. Secluded and by a pond, about fifteen minutes away from campus.”

Ezra opens his mouth, only to close it. He can’t really argue anything that has yet to happen. He can’t say that she’s wrong, even though she probably is.

“You’ll officially be together before that though,” Adelaide continues, then gives them a scrutinizing look, “I give it a month-”

“Aren’t you toying with fate or something? Telling us all of this?” Mason says, sounding uncomfortable, “That’s what-”

“Buzz said, yes,” Adelaide finishes, “I know Buzz. He’s normally a bit more tactful and mum. Although he wasn’t with you, Ezra. He told you more than he told him.”

Ezra isn’t even going to look in Mason’s direction now. He might avoid eye contact with him for the rest of his life. 

“Anyway,” Adelaide says, letting out a breath, “You both are going to have very beautiful lives. Ezra is going to be an EGOT winner-” 

“What’s an EGOT winner?” Mason asks, sounding dumbfounded as Ezra lets out a groan.

“Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, Tony!” Ezra says, already set on schooling Mason as he hits pause on the eye contact thing, “I don’t know HOW I’m winning this Grammy, but the other three are doable, I think, even though all of that shit is political-”

“While your first Emmy, Golden Globe, and Oscar all happen within the next ten years and your first Tony happens a year after you become a dad. It’s actually for a play that your future husband here has already written, which he also wins a Tony for. You’re very much a power couple. I love a good power couple. The Grammy doesn’t happen until your mid forties. You write a Broadway Musical with Mason,” Adelaide says, glancing at Mason before focusing on Ezra again, “And you write the music for it with a friend that you end up being very close with. You both have something painful in common. Instead of that reveal causing a rift between you and this friend, it brings you closer together. Anyway, like I said, you’ll be very successful.”

Adelaide zeros in on Mason, then nods, as if she knows exactly what’s going to happen to him, “And Mason? you’re going to be successful as a Development Director. You completely turn around a non-profit and help a lot of people. That leads you to some quick promotions. However, you also become a successful writer. You will publish two novels before you turn thirty and the second one makes The New York Times’ Bestseller list. You win a Pulitzer and major publishers are dying to work with you. You’ll eventually write full-time, a decision you initially struggle with but decide on when you get signed to Random House and you both adopt your daughter. It gives you an opportunity to build a career as a highly respected author, playwright, and screenwriter, but also gives you an opportunity to stay at home with your little one. I believe you are adopting her in 2022. She’s from Pine Ridge. Ezra, your second cousin, Rose? You know her, right?”

“Uh...sort of,” Ezra says, feeling uncomfortable at all of the accurate names she’s throwing out, “She’s a lot younger than me. I think she’s nine or ten now. My parents fostered her for several months when I was in high school. It caused some resentment with her parents so they pulled away.”

“Well, you both adopt her baby as your own,” Adelaide says, glancing at both of them, “She has her at eighteen during her senior year of high school. She is set on escaping and not becoming her parents. She doesn’t want to become an addict or a young mother. She wants to go to college in Florida. She reaches out to you to see if you are interested in adopting the baby when she’s born. You both have only started talking about inquiring into adopting at that point. You are both close with Molly’s children, one she adopts unexpectedly with her boyfriend and one she becomes pregnant with unexpectedly soon after she gets married. You’re close to a few other children in Mason’s family, as well as the goddaughter you share. It begins to cause a baby fever of sorts, so when Rose reaches out to you, you both take it as a sign. A few years after you adopt your daughter, you will adopt a set of twins, a boy and a girl. You will have a wonderful relationship with all of them, as well as with each other. Your marriage never has any big hurdles, you both stay very in tune and in love with each other. Good thing. You go all out for the wedding. I believe it is happening four summers from now. It would be embarrassing if you got divorced within a few years after such a big affair. Any questions?”

How are they supposed to even come up with coherent questions after all of that?

\--------------------------------------

The car ride to Boston is practically silent. Other than the sound of the GPS, nothing is really said between them. It's too awkward and strange. If Ezra had heard Mason was going to be his husband and Mason wasn't here, Ezra would probably be happy to hear that part of the fortune - but only if that was the only thing the psychics talked about. Hearing Mika's and Aunt Una's spirits had been in the room had made him feel like he was going to pass out. He would love to call bullshit, but she had known their names. She had known Mason's sister's name as well. She wouldn't just guess that stuff out of nowhere. She implied that Aunt Una was sorry for Ezra finding her. She implied Mika was happy about Mason. She had known about the second cousin he hasn't seen in years. It feels wrong to dismiss her as being a fraud but it feels dangerous to assume that she's right about everything - dangerous to Ezra's feelings, dangerous to the quickest growing friendship he's ever had, dangerous to any potential future he may or may not have with Mason. 

He's not getting his hopes up. He doesn't want to focus on what his supposed future is, just like he doesn't want to focus on Mika or Una or anyone else. Part of him does want to check in with Mason. Mason might not have gotten any messages from the great beyond, but he found out that his biological father is supposedly going to die from a heroin overdose. He found out that the man is possibly a fucking rapist. How do you even try to comfort someone after that? Do you say, 'Hey, I'm really sorry you might have been the product of date rape?' Ezra can't say shit right now. He can't come up with anything that will break the tension or comfort either of them, so he stays silent.

They face rush hour traffic into Boston, so it takes an hour to get into the city, rather than a half hour. They only begin talking when Ezra asks Mason to find a restaurant, only to look down at their clothes. 

"We have to change into our casual date night clothes," Ezra says, turning right, "Regardless of where we go."

Mason snorts, "You're still going to call our outfits that after what we were told?"

Ezra feels his heart jolt as he glances at Mason. He hadn't been expecting that, for Mason to bring it up first. It gives Ezra an opportunity to at least try to laugh it off, say something like, 'That was wild, right? Deirdre would fit right in with them, trying to get us to hook up.' The thing is, it isn't funny to Ezra. None of it is. Laughing it off would give Mason an opportunity to laugh it off and claim that the mere notion of being with Ezra is ridiculous.

"Here's a Citgo," Ezra says instead, ignoring Mason completely, "We can change here and fill up the car."

He doesn't look at Mason when he feels the other man's eyes on him either. 

Things do get back to normal - sort of - by the time they are at dinner. Ezra insists they go to a French restaurant called Ma Maison, because it is obviously a sign from a greater power.

"So we are actually going to go with signs from a greater power now?" Mason asks. Does he actually want to talk about this? Is he for real about this? Ezra should probably be tactful, ask him if he wants to have a no judgment conversation about everything they were told and go from there.

"Ugh, stop making things awkward!" Ezra says instead, then takes Mason's hand to lead him towards the restaurant. He interlocks his fingers with Mason's, in a subtle attempt to give him some kind of hint.

_Happy, Mika?_

They both seem to very purposefully not talk about the readings, all while they occasionally send alternating worried and curious glances at each other. When their appetizer arrives at the table, their hands accidentally touch when they grab the same snail, of all fucking things. 

"Oh, I insist," Mason says, pushing the plate towards Ezra immediately, "You take it. It's the least I can do for my _mate_."

Ezra glares, "You joke, but don't think I don't know what you're doing. You're just afraid to try the snails first. What kind of French man are you?"

"The kind who hasn't had any ancestors living in France since the 1940s," Mason says, "I don't want this. You're the one who insisted it was a necessity that we try it, so you get to try it first." 

"No, I don't want to," Ezra says, poking the snail, "I don't eat meat very much. I'm a flexitarian. You know this."

Mason gives him a look of exasperation, "You're the one who ordered it!"

"And?"

"You suck," Mason says, then reaches over, picks up one of the de-shelled snails, puts it on a piece of bread, then eats it.

"Wow," Ezra says, leaning back in his seat, "You just changed the whole course of our future."

Mason stops chewing momentarily, seeming surprised, then swallows, "...Huh?"

"I mean, supposedly we are going to get married but that can't happen now," Ezra sighs, "How can I even kiss you at the altar now that you've eaten that?"

Mason rolls his eyes but Ezra can see him blushing regardless, "You're a dick. You've been avoiding what that woman said for almost two hours despite my subtle attempts to get you to talk about it and that's how you want to bring it up?" 

"No," Ezra says, staring at the dead snails rather than at Mason himself, "I would rather awkwardly avoid the subject for the remainder of our friendship. I actually don't even want to look at you."

While Ezra probably sounds like he's joking, he is actually being one hundred percent serious. Mason apparently isn't though, considering he flicks a dead snail at Ezra's mouth.

"Oh, you're lucky that didn't fall on the ground," Ezra says, instinctively catching after it bounces off his lips before he shudders, “That would be two dollars wasted.”

“Eat the damn snail, Ezra.”

Maybe it’s just to get Mason to stop staring at him, but Ezra obeys. To be fair, it isn’t _terrible_. It’s more spongy - almost mushroomy - rather than rubbery, so that’s a plus. It’s not his favorite thing in the world but it isn’t his least favorite either. He can tolerate it enough to eat half of the remaining escargot while Mason eats the other half. As long as Ezra doesn’t think about them being snails and as long as he doesn’t think about everything the psychics said, he finds that he can pretend things are normal enough to interact with Mason like he usually would. He’s even able to laugh off the manager offering them a free dessert.

“It’s just nice to see such a handsome, young couple,” she says before walking away.

“I really don’t understand this area at all because this is the second time that this has happened,” Ezra says, taking a bite of the strawberry baked Alaska, “I can’t tell if all couples they deem worthy get free food or they are just fattening us up for some sort of ritual. I call it now, they’re the witches.”

“Speaking of accusing people of witchcraft,” Mason says, taking a bite of his own, “Do you know where your ancestor’s memorial is? We should probably get there before it’s dark.”

“It’s only three minutes away, so we have a little time before it starts to get dark,” Ezra says, continuing to eat the dessert, “But you are right. I want to have good lighting, at least so that I can FaceTime my mom so that she can see it.”

“I thought you said that she doesn’t care about Nana Glover.”

Ezra shrugs, unbothered, “I’ll make her care. Or I’ll make her feel like she has to pretend to care with my own enthusiasm. Either or.”

Mason snorts, “You were the kid that made your parents watch every mundane thing you did so that they would feel forced to praise you, weren’t you?”

“That sounds like me, yes,” Ezra says, holding back a smile. 

The memorial marker for Ann Glover is surprisingly easy to find, despite there being more prominent people like John Hancock and Paul Revere being buried there. Ezra doesn’t care about them. He pointedly ignores their graves when he walks past them, causing Mason to poke fun. 

“Family first, Mason,” Ezra says, continuing to walk through the graveyard, “I don’t care about those privileged motherfuckers. They are not getting our flowers, not today.”

“You do realize someone is probably just going to steal these, right?” Mason says, glancing down at the roses in his hands. 

Ezra shrugs, “Joke will be on them. Whoever steals them will be really lucky if a curse doesn’t befall them as soon as they leave these grounds.”

“Befall…” Mason starts, then shakes his head, “Okay, whatever.”

They find the marker moments later - probably because Ezra validates and respects her witch powers - and stand before it once some non-related tourist bitches get out of their way. 

“Excuse me,” Ezra says, pushing his way past when he deems that they are taking too long, “This is my grandma. I need to mourn.”

He’s not sure why Mason is apologizing to them, sounding embarrassed, but they do end up leaving and give Ezra and Mason a moment alone with the marker.

“‘Goodwife Ann Glover’,” Ezra reads, using his most respectful sounding voice, “‘Not far from her on the 16th of November of 1688, Goodwife Ann Glover, an elderly Irish widow, was hanged as a witch because she refused to renounce her Catholic faith. Having been deported from her native Ireland to Barbados with her husband, who died there because of his own loyalty to the Catholic faith.’ Oh, I forgot to tell you that Grandpappy Glover-”

“Grandpappy Glover?” Mason says, raising a brow.

“Grandpappy Glover,” Ezra confirms, “He also got executed. We have to go to Barbados. We’ll start saving up now and go next year and try to find his grave, even though it is probably more unmarked than this one. We can find Rihanna’s hometown too.”

“The two go hand in hand,” Mason says agreeably. 

“‘She came to Boston where she was living for at least six years before she was unjustly condemned to death’,” Ezra goes back to reading, “‘This memorial is erected to commemorate ‘Goody’ Glover as the first Catholic martyr in Massachusetts.’ They forgot to mention she was a powerful sorceress.”

“I mean, maybe because she wasn’t, hence the purpose of the memorial to begin with,” Mason says, sounding reasonable even though he really isn’t, “But do you want a picture with your grandma? Isn’t that partly why you came all the way here?”

“Part of the reason, yes,” Ezra says, tossing Mason his phone, “Make sure I look hot.”

Ezra could swear that Mason just said under his breath, ‘Like that’s hard’ but he’s probably having auditory hallucinations, stemming from his weird ass day. 

As soon as Mason is finished taking a few pictures, two women pass by and one stops to take a look at them.

“Would you boys like a picture together?” she asks, stepping a little closer.

Ezra glances over at Mason, “Sure. Mason, come take a picture with me and my grandma.”

“That’s your grandma?” the woman asks, glancing at the marker as she takes Ezra’s phone, “Introducing the boyfriend? It will probably go better than when I introduced my wife to my grandmother. She had some choice words. At least your grandmother isn’t going to say anything.”

It’s too tiring to awkwardly correct her so neither of them bother. 

After the two women walk away, Ezra goes ahead and FaceTimes his mother. He doesn’t normally FaceTime his parents - or anyone, for that matter. That being said, seeing her face after not seeing it for months does make him feel more emotional than he had been expecting to feel. He’s not going to cry over it, he’s not, although part of him immediately wants to unload and tell her about what the psychic said about Mika and Aunt Una. He’s not going to do that though - not here, at least, and not in front of Mason. He holds all of the more overwhelming feelings back, for his mother’s sake, for Mason’s sake, and for his own, and gives her a big smile instead. 

“Ina!” he exclaims, using his occasional term for her when she appears on his screen, “I miss you!”

His mother gives him a soft look, “I miss you too! Are you okay? You never FaceTime.”

“Two seconds into our conversation and you’re already guilting me,” Ezra sighs, “Are you at the store? I need your full attention.”

“Closing up now,” his mother says, walking over towards the doorway to flip the sign to ‘Closed’, “Alright, you have my full attention. What’s up?”

“I went on a journey,” Ezra starts, twirling around once as he goes back over to the marker, “And I found your ancestor’s marker. Nana Glover, you know her.”

“Mmm, no,” his mother says, shaking her head as she seems unimpressed, “I don’t know her. Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry.”

“Ugh, Mom!” Ezra groans as Mason laughs at his mother’s response, “Ann Glover. Your sorceress ancestor. I _told_ you about her, remember? She got hanged for being a witch. And a Catholic. But mainly for being a witch.”

His mother breathes out and seems to think on it before nodding, “Oh, right, right. That woman you got all excited about when you were tracing my lineage back. That’s nice, sweetie.”

“‘That’s _nice_ , sweetie?’' Ezra repeats, feeling both affection and annoyance for his mother, “Mason and I drove two hours to find her and that’s all you have to-”

“Wait,” his mother says, her tone completely changing as she actually looks excited over something - finally, “Mason’s with you? _The_ Mason? The one you can’t shut up about?”

Okay, Ezra is really going to need his mother to tone it down or he’s going to have to sink through the sidewalk and join the rest of the bodies in the graveyard, “I don’t think the ‘The’ is on his birth certificate, so you might be mistaken-”

“I need to meet him,” his mother says, sounding more excited and commanding than Ezra has heard her in years, “Give him the phone.”

Ezra puts his free hand over his face, “ _No_ , Mom.”

“I don’t mind talking to your mom,” Mason says, coming over to stand beside Ezra, “Hi, Mrs. Heart.”

“Mrs. Heart,” Ezra snorts, “Your ex’s parents loved you, didn’t they?”

“Oh, Ezra, he’s so cute,” his mother says before giving her attention to Mason, “It is so nice to meet you, honey. Call me Cheyenne. Ezra has been talking about you for months. Mason this and Mason that-”

“I’m going to go look at John Hancock’s grave, question his ghost of his tolerant yet hypocritical beliefs regarding the Native Americans, and pretend that this conversation isn’t happening,” Ezra decides, walking away before either his mother or Mason can stop him. He then proceeds to keep walking until he finds himself staring at John Hancock’s grave intensely and purposefully ignores Mason on the other side of the graveyard.

“I don’t want to be here,” Ezra eventually tells the gravestone, scowling, “Don’t feel honored that I’m visiting you. You’re just a distraction. I don’t care that you tried to convince the natives to be peaceful with white people. You acted like you had equal claim to the land and you did _not_ -”

“Are you telling off one of the founding fathers again?” Mason asks, his mother still on his screen.

“He found nothing, Mason,” Ezra sighs, “They’re all frauds. You know this. You agreed with me so don’t go changing your tune by showing him respect now that we’re in front of his grave.”

Mason nods, looking amused as he hands the phone back over, “Say goodbye to your mother. She’s not happy that you ditched us just because she wanted to talk to me.”

Ezra rolls his eyes, then grabs the phone to look at his mother again, “Love you, Mom. Even though you go out of your way to make me feel embarrassed, I know you mean well.”

His mother gives him a knowing look, “I love you too. Although, I’m not sure why you would feel embarrassed if the two of you really are just fr-”

Ezra hangs up on her before she can finish her sentence. He’ll text her an apology later. 

\-----------------------------------

“You have your mom’s nose,” Mason decides as soon as they are on the highway to head back home, “You actually look a lot like your mom, but I can’t pinpoint anything else. Different eyes though.”

Ezra glances over at him from the driver’s seat then nods, “It’s the chin, I think. And her forehead. Similar hair texture. My hair color is the same as my dad’s, but his is silky and straight. My mom has coarser hair that’s curly. Mine’s more wavy but it’s definitely closer to hers. I have my dad’s eyes, eye shape, cheekbones, and jawline. My mom is 5’8” and my dad is 6’7”. I’m like 6’2” and a smidge. I’m honestly the perfect blend. It’s why they didn’t give me any siblings. They took one look at me and were like, ‘This is it. We’ve reached perfection with this one.’”

“Oh, is that what they thought?” Mason says.

“Duh,” Ezra says, but then laughs, “Other people didn’t though. I was the loud and rambunctious child of two sweet and generally quiet people. Also, even though I am such a perfect blend, my inherited features are such a toss up, fall somewhere in between, or are so mixed together that they become something else entirely, like my skin tone. To some people, that makes me look like I belong to neither of them. When I was five, my grandma became convinced I was half Polynesian and I wasn’t really her grandson. She actually thought that up until recently.” 

Mason gives Ezra an odd look, “That’s sort of fucked up. Didn't that cause problems?” 

Ezra shrugs, “I mean, she loves me. She was mainly a bitch to my mom but didn’t blame ME for this imaginary cheating scandal. She would just say stuff like, ‘I don’t think you are of my line, t‘akojá, but you are still a part of this tribe and I love you. Part of the reason I saved up and gave both my mom and my dad those tests for Christmas a few years ago was to prove her wrong. And I did. She’s stuck with me. She acted relieved when she found out. Probably because Mika was her favorite and knowing for certain that I'm actually her grandson means that her family line isn’t dead. Too bad I’m adopting and letting that line biologically die with me. Although, if I _am_ adopting Rose’s baby, I guess she’ll be related...Whatever.”

Mason shifts in his seat with discomfort at the words. He thought that conversation died back at the restaurant. Ezra had seemed like he wanted to talk about what that woman said less than Mason did. Hell, Mason had been the one to try to bring it up first. He doesn’t know _why_ he wanted to talk it out, but he did. Maybe so he could gain some clarity on his own feelings. Or maybe he tried to bring it up to see if Ezra has been having some questionable feelings too. But when Mason tried to bring it up, he was under the impression Ezra wanted nothing to do with the reading, whether it was because of what was said about Mika and Una or what was said about them. It might be Ezra’s way to subtly tell Mason that he’s not interested in him - not like that - and that there is nothing to talk about. That’s most likely it and the fact that’s probably the reason hurts Mason more than he knows how to deal with and sort through. He knows he’s been a little confused recently and has been more attached to Ezra than he’s ever been attached to anyone else. He knows that he’s been questioning the feelings he tends to feel when Ezra hugs him or is even near him. But he hasn’t been sure. He thought it was just the emotions someone might feel for a close and intimate friend. 

Actually, Mason would even go as far as to admit he had questioned whether or not he had a crush of some sort, caused by a mixture of a lot of time spent together, physical affection, fluctuating hormones, and the fact that Ezra is so fucking attractive. Anyone can see that. Even Zane admitted that Ezra was a good looking guy. Ezra had dropped off a book Mason had leant him looking even better looking than usual. Zane had looked at Mason thoughtfully before saying, “Okay, I feel sort of gay saying this, but Ezra is really fucking good looking. I can admit that. I kind of hate him. No one should look that good. You think he’s hot too, right? Tell me you do so I don’t go into some sort of weird ass identity crisis.”

Ezra being easy on the eyes is an obvious and undeniable fact. Ezra possibly having similar feelings regarding Mason has not been obvious. At all. And the fact that Ezra acted like he didn’t want to talk about what that psychic said possibly sealed the deal on Ezra not feeling the same. Even now, Ezra isn’t really bringing the soulmate stuff up. He’s bringing the adoption stuff up, but he’s not mentioning Mason in all of that. Ezra just said last night that he planned on adopting. He might be picking and choosing what part of his future will be true and is choosing not to pick Mason to be a part of it in that sense, if any of it is true at all. The more Mason thinks about it, the more he feels sick to his stomach. But maybe Ezra is bringing it up for a reason. Mason can work past it if it means Ezra feels better, even if feeling better means telling Mason that the soulmate stuff isn’t true because Ezra doesn’t feel that way.

“...Do you want to talk about it?” Mason asks quietly, bracing himself for whatever answer Ezra has for him.

“Talk about what?” Ezra asks, his expression straightening out to an unreadable one as he keeps his eyes on the road.

Does Ezra feel like there is nothing to talk about? Is that why he just answered Mason like that? Is that how little he cares? Does he think it’s all a joke? The more Mason thinks about it, the more he knows he can’t handle getting an absolute confirmation on that.

“Mika,” he says instead, closing his eyes as he presses his head against the window, “Or Una. Or...or anything. I don’t know.”

“...Not right now, Mason,” Ezra says, sighing, “I’m not trying to keep shit from you but it takes a lot for me to get into that. Deirdre and Hallie know, but it took a year for me to tell them and it was only after they saw something and I confirmed it. Do you need to talk about anything?”

Mason feels his heart pounding in his chest at the words and is suddenly glad that Ezra is driving so that he can’t look at Mason for long, “No. Not really.”

“What about what that woman said about your biological father?” Ezra asks, sounding hesitant, “That’s uh...That’s a pretty fucked up thing to hear.”

Mason shrugs and looks down at his hands, “He’s a pretty fucked up person. I’m not all that surprised. He’s been in and out of jail for drugs several times, so she probably wasn’t that far off the mark.”

Mason can see Ezra’s Adam's apple bob in his throat, “And the other thing?”

“What other thing?” Mason asks a little too quickly, wincing as soon as it comes out of his mouth. 

“About your mom and him.”

Mason bites the inside of his cheek, “...I don’t know. I don’t...I wouldn’t be surprised. I know she loves me but she hates that I look like him. I mean, I’m probably a blend of my parents too, but I have his hair, his skin tone, his eye color. It would make sense why she felt that way if what that woman says is true. It’s not like I can ask her. You can’t just ask someone something like that out of nowhere. Things may be rough between us right now, but I don’t want to re-traumatize her, if there is something for her to be traumatized about.”

Ezra nods sadly, then glances at him, “Show me a picture of your mom.”

Mason meets his eyes, “You want to see my mom? Why?”

“Because you saw my mom,” Ezra answers reasonably, “It’s only fair. You’re lucky I’m not asking you to FaceTime her.”

“She would be confused enough if I FaceTimed her myself, let alone if I FaceTimed her and handed the phone to you,” Mason snorts as he goes through his mother’s Facebook profile before clicking on a picture. Mason had actually taken that one of her, last year. She and his dad had come up to see him right before school started. They had seemed okay, not like they were on the brink of a divorce. She actually looked radiant and happy that day and Mason felt enough affection for both of his parents on that visit to take pictures of them and this one is the one of her he had liked the most. His mom has always been extremely pretty. She had been the mom his friends had weirdly and inappropriately crushed on. She is barely old enough to be his mother to begin with and looks even younger than she is. 

“What the fuck?” Ezra says, doing a double take, “ _That’s_ your mom? Are you sure that she isn’t your sister? I’m not even saying that as a compliment - although she IS hot, don’t get me wrong - but what the fuck?”

“She was sixteen when she had me. She’s young, you know this,” Mason says, snorting.

“She does not look sixteen years older than you,” Ezra says, “She looks six years older than you.”

“Oh, come on,” Mason says, studying the picture, “She looks at least thirty.”

“You’re wrong,” Ezra says and Mason lets him win the argument, “But speaking of sisters, show me a picture of Molly too while you’re at it. Just for funsies.”

“For funsies?” Mason says, squinting, then rolls his eyes, “Okay, fine, but if you start saying the inappropriate shit like half of Tri Kappa says about her just because she walked into the frat house one damn time-”

“What do they say about your sister?” Ezra says, sounding intrigued.

“That they want to sleep with her,” Mason says, letting out an annoyed breath, “I mean, she wouldn’t be interested in any of them, but any time she comes to see me and they catch wind of it, they line up to start hitting on her.”

“Is she that hot?” Ezra asks.

“Ugh, she’s my sister, I don’t know,” Mason says in disgust before showing Ezra a picture.

Ezra’s eyes widen, “Oh my god, she _is_ that hot. I mean, I would NEVER stoop to Tri-Kappa’s level. I would court your sister properly, like she deserves-”

“Never say that again,” Mason says, only half kidding. 

“I’ll try not to, but no promises,” Ezra shrugs, then shakes his head in wonder, “Holy shit, Mason. Why is your family so fucking attractive? You, your mom, your sister. That’s just cruel, hogging all of the beauty for yourselves.”

“Your family has plenty of it,” Mason says leaning back in the passenger seat, “Your mom is really pretty too. And you? You probably get hit on more than Molly does. Even Zane said you were hot.”

Ezra lets out a theatrical gasp, “Frat bro thinks I’m a cutie? Do you think I have a shot at stealing him from Yas? Okay, I would never do that but I have to tell her before I hit on her boyfriend to freak him out.”

Mason lets out a groan, “I shouldn’t have told you that. He just said that you were good looking and admitted that sounded sort of gay.”

“Of course he did,” Ezra says, sounding gleeful, “He’s growing though, by being able to admit some guys are attractive despite being straight. It’s nice that there’s hope for him.”

"I guess," Mason mumbles, closing his eyes in an attempt to end the conversation.

"Take your contacts out!" Ezra demands before Mason feels Ezra's hand brush his knee to open the glove compartment, only to have stuff thrown in his lap a few seconds after. When Mason looks down to see what it is, he sees a new contacts case, new contacts solution, and - lo and behold - his glasses. 

"Why do you have these things?" Mason says, grunting as he sits back up. 

Ezra gives him an almost exasperated look, "Because I know you. You wear your contacts too much and it is not healthy to keep them in your eyes everyday in general, let alone when you sleep. So yeah, maybe I grabbed your glasses in case we got stuck somewhere. Maybe I forgot your contacts case and solution and that's why I ran into that CVS across the gas station. Sue. Me."

"I feel like it wouldn't be worth the hassle," Mason says, as Ezra keeps turning his head to look at him expectantly. 

"Do I need to pull over?" Ezra asks pointedly. 

"Ugh, you're so bossy," Mason says, but opens the packages and does what he's told before throwing all of it back into the glove compartment. 

"Oh, come on, put your glasses on," Ezra says pleadingly, "You look so cute in your glasses, and with that outfit? You'd look like a young, sexy professor getting drinks with a beautiful colleague who is super sweet and has an hourglass figure, but also challenges you intellectually." 

"What?" Mason says, then lets out a sigh, "Ezra, where do you come up with this shit?"

Ezra shrugs, "Usually on the spot. Why? Did I not describe your type?"

Mason doesn't know where to start answering that so he chooses not to answer at all. 

\-----------------

When Mason wakes up with a jolt, it is dark, he is alone, and he is really disoriented. He looks around the car, not even knowing where he is. He can't even see where he is, because not only is it dark, but it's blurry and he's really confused and he just had that awful dream, the dream that usually reduces him to tears and makes him stay in bed for the day. But he's not in bed and he can't fucking see, he just knows he's in a car so when the car door opens and a tall, blurry figure gets in, he may make a grab for the door handle. 

"Whoa!" Ezra says, putting a steady but calming hand on Mason's arm, "Mason, it's me. Ezra? You know, your favorite best friend? The one you just went to Massachusetts with? Are you fully awake now or do I need to look up how to wake someone up from sleepwalking?"

Mason lets his fingers slowly let go of the handle, "Huh? I can't see."

Ezra turns on the light inside the car and opens the glove compartment to hand Mason his glasses, "There. Better?"

Mason's hands shake slightly as he puts the glasses on, "Uh huh."

"You okay?" Ezra asks, his tone light but concerned, "You seem out of it." 

Mason forces himself to shrug, even though he doesn't feel like doing anything, "I just woke up confused."

Ezra nods, "Yeah. Not surprised, actually. You were OUT for a solid two hours. Like, I almost wrecked and killed us because of a raccoon and you didn't even wake up, even when I went into Mom mode and slammed my hand into your chest to protect you. I tried to tell you that I was stopping at a rest stop a half hour ago, to see if you wanted to go in, but you didn't even mumble. If I couldn't see you breathing, I would have thought you were dead. Glad you're not, by the way. The trauma might kill me-"

"Why are we outside of a liquor store?" Mason interrupts, finally taking in his surroundings before looking into the backseat only to find several bottles of tequila, "Why do you need that much tequila?"

"I took up binge drinking," Ezra says, pulling out of the parking lot, "I hide it well, don't I?"

"...Huh?" Mason asks. 

"Look at that adorable, sleepy face," Ezra says in a pouty voice before reaching over to gently pinch his cheek, "Such a cutie. But wake up, we're not even ten minutes away from my apartment."

Mason forces himself to do just that and not focus on the dream, not focus on Jake or Jake's _friend_. He forces himself not to focus on the worthless feelings the dream tends to bring on and the fear that it will be recurring over the next few weeks or so. He does that every second until Ezra parks in front of his building. 

"Come on, grab your stuff!" Ezra says, grabbing all of the large bottles and his own duffle bag with a grunt, "You're staying here tonight. Taking you back to Tri-Kappa will likely be out of the question."

"Why is it out of the question?" Mason asks, his voice dull enough to get Ezra to glance at him curiously.

"I'm a binge drinker now, remember?" Ezra says, lifting the bag of alcohol briefly, "I might put my own life and liver in danger but I will not do the same to you. Well, maybe your liver. I’ll share some with you. Just for tonight. Are you sure you're okay?"

Mason swallows and pinches the bridge of his nose, "I'm okay. I'm fine."

"Because I need you to tell me if you're not," Ezra continues slowly, "Always, but especially tonight. If there is something upsetting you for whatever reason, I need to know before we go upstairs so that I can adjust plans."

"Why would you need to adjust plans if I'm not okay?" Mason asks in confusion.

"Just…" Ezra starts, then lets out a sigh, "Ugh, FINE. I wanted it to be a surprise. Whatever. A few of us wanted to thank you for getting the money for the play. So I arranged a small thank you party in your honor. But if there is something going on and you can't deal with people right now, I don't mind going up, throwing the tequila at them, and telling them to go take the celebration elsewhere without us. They can take a picture of you or something. Maybe get a cardboard cut-out of you made. That would be weird, I think I like that idea…”

Mason stares at Ezra as his friend continues to spout out off the wall ways to get their mutual friends, his theater department friends, and his LGBTQ friends out of his apartment so that Mason won’t have to deal with people if he doesn’t want to and Mason really wants to hug him right now. Somehow, Ezra just knows something is wrong, _knows_ it, and is immediately giving him an out - an option to have a calm and quiet night without any other questions other than if he’s okay.

But he doesn’t want to risk disappointing Ezra, even if he’s understanding about it. Maybe being around people will distract him, getting drunk probably will help some. Or hurt. It depends. Zane usually tries to talk him out of staying in the room all day when he has a nightmare. Zane doesn’t know - no one knows - but he knows that Mason has days where he gets depressed. He knows there is something wrong with him. Mason doesn’t have to say a word about it. Zane can be pretty dense but they share a room. He’s not blind. 

“It’s okay,” Mason says quietly, “I’m fine.”

And he is fine. Or he will feel fine. He can honestly say he feels appreciated and cared for when they get upstairs and a relatively large group of people cheer at his arrival. Don’t get him wrong, he hates it, and he hates it more when he realizes he has his glasses on. Half of the people in the room chanting the words ‘Ally King’ make him want to turn around. Ezra seems to think it’s from the attention. It sort of is. But a bigger part - a much bigger part - is because he’s not feeling solely like the straight ally these people seem to think he is, especially when Ezra places the princess crown on his head and puts the feather boa around his neck.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Ezra says in his ear, before smacking a kiss against the side of his face. His cheek feels like it is tingling even after Ezra walks away. 

It takes a few drinks for Mason to chill out. Margaritas are the most efficient way to get the people at the party drunk and Mason goes straight for them. He stands off to the side for the while and makes small talk with people only when they approach him. Predictably, people regularly gravitate towards Ezra in flocks since he's a magnet that radiates charisma, confidence, and warmth. Mason would almost be jealous of Ezra but he doesn't like that kind of attention, not really, unless it's from Ezra himself. The people who are drawn to Ezra tend to want to stay around Ezra. Part of Mason wants to go over and stand next to him or just nearby. Another part realizes that is clingy and annoying, especially when he's had Ezra all day. 

Especially when Ezra doesn't want to be with him, not in the way the psychic claimed. Not in the way Mason wants.

He's drunker than he thought he was. He needs to stop looking at Ezra, just for a few minutes. He needs a break. The kitchen should work. He doesn't think there is anyone in there. When they do come in, it's just to get a drink and not to focus on Mason. That's how it lasts for a while until Pedro walks in. 

"Oh, our little príncipe of the night!" Pedro says as he walks past him to get another margarita. Pedro takes a better look at him, takes the empty cup out of Mason's hand gently, fills it to the top with a mango margarita, and hands it back to him. 

"There you go, sweet boy. You deserve it for giving me a little bit of a costume budget to work with for this show," Pedro says, smiling, before giving him a once over, "So why are you in here? You're the man of the hour. Ezra keeps asking where you are. He can't pull himself away from the budding freshmen actors in the summer program. Literally can't. They're obsessed with him. I don't think they'll let him get more than a few feet away. I told him he shouldn't have said yes to teaching that workshop because look at the position he's in now. Surrounded by adoring eighteen years olds who want his talent and likely his dick."

"Hmm," is all Mason says as he takes a particularly large gulp of margarita  
It's a wonder he doesn't get brain freeze.

"So I said I would go find you," Pedro continues, "And here you are, hiding away in the kitchen. How come? Why aren't you standing with your man? You two are such a cute couple. You're so, SO lucky to have him as your bae. UGH, he's gorgeous! That man barely knew how to commit. His longest relationship since moving here and I think in general lasted three months and that was with a GIRL. He was with her right before he met you and she broke things off with HIM. Like, who does that? He seemed to really like her and was actually really sad over it and yet he was ‘emotionally unavailable’ in Kali’s eyes. He had a rough weekend and didn’t want to talk to her about it so she just breaks things off. Like immediately. She didn’t even give him a day to change his mind and confide in her. Fuck Kali. Fuck that bitch. Fuck psych students. I’ll generalize them all because of her. Ezra won’t say one bad word about her or his ex before that, but I’ll talk smack, I don’t care. But I suppose I should stop, because now he’s with you. As soon as he met you, he forgot about her fast. Suddenly, it’s ‘Mason Mason Mason’ all of the time. He’s finally in love. You're a very lucky boy." 

Mason opens his mouth before closing it, then lets out a breath, "We're uh...We're not a couple. I know that's a rumor because we spend a lot of time together but…"

The words coming out of his mouth feel like a fucking lie. That's the feeling he gets every single time someone makes this assumption. That he is straight up lying. 

"He's not into me like that," Mason finally says. Saying that hurts more. It hurts more because it's the truth. 

Pedro steps back and looks at him for a moment - more like stares into his damn soul - then squints, “...Are you sure?”

Mason swallows the lump that’s suddenly in his throat and nods, “Yeah, pretty sure.”

Pedro smirks, “Are you _pretty_ sure he’s not into you or _absolutely_ sure?”

“Absolutely sure,” Mason says harshly, “Why are you asking?”

Pedro puts his margarita on the counter and puts his hands up, “Hey, no reason. I was just under the impression that you two have been a thing. A lot of us just assumed. Yas and Zane thought you guys were a couple-”

“Zane thinks that?” Mason says, a sinking fear forming in his gut. Zane hasn’t said a word to him about it. He asks about Ezra, asks if Mason wants to invite him out whenever he and Yas ask him to go somewhere with them. The four of them go out a lot, but Zane has never assumed that Ezra is his fucking boyfriend. He’s never said that to Mason, at least. Apparently, he’s saying it to Yas. He’s apparently saying it to Pedro too - of all fucking people. Has he been saying it to Ronnie? Is that why Ronnie goes out of his way to be nice to Ezra, even if it is just for brief exchanges? Has he been saying it to people like Caleb, Matt, and Ross? Is that why they fucking assume shit and go out of their way to be dicks to Mason about Ezra?

“Of course he thinks that,” Pedro says, shrugging, “He and Yas invite you guys to double date with them. They think you and Ezra are a great couple. I was off the mark about Zane, I think. He just needed some exposure and time to grow. He has a good heart. I didn’t approve of Yas’s choice at first but I do now.”

Before Mason can say anything to that - before he can even digest all of it - Pedro continues. 

“But we were wrong about you and Ezra apparently. Thanks for clearing that up,” Pedro says, then smiles, “Honestly? It’s actually good to hear that Ezra is a single pringle. I haven’t hooked up with him for at least a year. That man...UGH, he is PHENOMENAL in bed. I wasn’t going to make a move out of respect for his relationship with you but since there is no relationship in question...I don’t know, I might see if he is up for some fun tonight. He’s so fucking sexy. Amazing service top. But I don’t know if service top is quite the right word for him. He isn’t submissive like the term sometimes suggests. He’s a service top in the sense that he knows how to take care of his partners in bed _very_ thoroughly. Like, he gets off on getting other people off. He’s known for being the best lay at Dartmouth for a reason.”

Mason bites the inside of his cheek and tries to remain nonchalant, “That’s nice.”

“Very nice,” Pedro sighs dreamily then begins to walk around the kitchen, “You know what’s also nice? His dick. Honey, that thing has to be a nine incher. Pretty girthy too. It’s as beautiful as he is. I had never had a dick that big inside of me when he first fucked me. I don’t think I have since the last time we fucked either. But he truly does not want to hurt anyone with it. He prepped me so good, almost made me come from that alone. Probably could have if he wanted to. Talented fingers, that one. Talented mouth too. And that tongue. ¡Ayos Mios!”

Mason just breathes out, then downs the margarita. He doesn’t even care about brain freeze at this point. 

“Even Kali, the frigid, heartless bitch she ended up being, went on and on about Ezra’s ability to eat her out,” Pedro sighs, leaning against the counter as he stares at Mason, “I don’t get Ezra liking girls. Like, why are they even on his radar when he likes guys?”

Mason scoffs, “Because he’s pan? He likes...I don’t know, everyone. Not everyone, but he doesn’t care about gender. He cares about the person.”

Pedro rolls his eyes, “Yeah, but guys are SO much better. When I go over and seduce him tonight, I think I am going to make it my goal to fully convert him to the gay side. You know, once and for all...Hey, baby, where are you going? We were engaging in some girl talk!”

Mason doesn’t know where he’s going. He just knows that he feels jealous, but moreso, he feels fucking sad. He also knows he can’t be in the kitchen with Pedro anymore, so he wanders out of there aimlessly until he sees Ezra talking to Jessie, Frankie, Yas, and Zane over near the entrance to the balcony. 

“Hey!” Ezra says, giving him a huge smile before throwing his arm around him, “I missed you! Where did you go?”

“I dunno,” Mason mumbles dejectedly. He’s not looking at Ezra. He isn’t looking at anyone - especially Zane because Zane apparently can see that Mason has some sort of feelings for Ezra. He sees it enough that he and Yas have been inviting him and Ezra out on double dates and Mason didn’t even know it. But he can feel everyone’s eyes on him. 

“...Oh, okay,” Zane says, watching Mason carefully, “You were lucky enough to meet Happy and Affectionate Tequila Mason last time we had margarita night. Now you get to meet Sad Tequila Mason.”

“What?” Ezra says, frowning as he pulls Mason in closer, “No. Mason isn’t sad. He’s NOT sad! You’re not sad, right?”

Mason shrugs with a downcast pout stuck on his face, causing Ezra’s frown to deepen.

“Aw, Mason,” Yas says, patting Mason’s shoulder, “What are you sad about this time? I’ve seen you like this twice. The first time it was about your parents divorcing - which is a completely valid reason - and the other time it was because you remembered the part of Homeward Bound where Shadow doesn’t make it out of the pit of mud at first and everyone thinks he’s dead.”

“I don’t want _talk_ about that movie,” Mason tells her, sniffling, which immediately has Ezra pulling him in for a hug and tucking Mason’s face into the crook of his neck. 

“Don’t make fun of him!” Ezra snaps as he strokes the back of Mason’s head possessively, “It’s okay, I’ll protect you.”

“Wow. Both of you are drunk at the same time for once,” Mason hears Zane say in a humored tone, “This should actually be interesting.”

“You’re going to stay with me for the rest of the night. Right here next to me. Not going an inch farther away than you are right now,” Ezra continues softly as he continues to run his fingers through Mason’s hair all while he ignores Zane completely, “And no more wandering off to god knows where! I thought I lost you _forever_ -”

“Oh, please,” a voice says and it takes a second for Mason to register it as Pedro’s, “He was in the kitchen. He didn’t wander outside and get kidnapped like you were CONVINCED he had been. Both of you are very silly about each other, I hope you can see this because we all can.”

“See what?” Ezra says, his head moving forward a little, “That you’re an annoying little twink?”

“Ouch, papi, how your drunken insults wound me!” Pedro says dramatically, sounding anything but wounded, “But I suppose they turn me on even more than I already felt. I was explaining to Mason how good you are in bed since he shockingly hasn’t experienced you in that way himself. Stop looking at me like I’m a liar, Frankie! I’m not lying unless Mason is lying. Anyway, found out you’re still single after all. Want to fuck?”

Mason finds himself shaking his head immediately at the offer - an offer not even aimed at him - as his arms tighten around Ezra’s waist. Ezra’s hold on him tightens as well and he begins walking Mason away from the group.

“All of you need to keep your noses out of other peoples’ business!” Ezra calls out to them, “And it’s not happening, Pedro! Find some other top to fulfill your needs because it’s NOT going to be me. Come on, Mason. Let’s go sit down.”

Mason doesn’t have the willpower to do anything else.

\-----------------------

After he and Mason leave the dining room, Ezra shoos away one of his old workshop students from the loveseat and takes it for himself and Mason. He knows he shouldn’t just shoo her away. She can grow up and become the next triple threat like Jennifer Lopez and ruin his career with the snap of her fingers if he’s too much of a dick so he apologizes quickly.

“I’m sorry to be a bad host, but my friend and I need to sit close to each other right now,” he says, only sounding _slightly_ inebriated, “A psychic said this man right here is my soulmate and that his sister and her future boyfriend are getting a puppy sometime in the next two years. I will let you meet said puppy if you give me this spot without complaint.”

“Um…” Janelle starts as she gets up, giving him a strange look that’s unwarranted if you ask Ezra, “I’m more of a cat person, so it’s cool.”

“She’ll have a cat too, the psychic said so,” Ezra dismisses, “My offer still stands.”

“...Okay.”

After Janelle goes off with the other overly excited freshmen who really shouldn’t be here but got invited by one of these fuckers-

“They need to leave!” Ezra says suddenly as he collapses in the seat, Mason falling halfway in his lap. Ezra is NOT getting arrested for getting underaged people drunk, “They need to go! Deirdre! DEIRDRE!”

Deirdre takes two steps over and sighs, “I’m right here, Ezra.”

“Get the designated DDs to take those infants home,” Ezra insists, pointing at the group that had just been admiring him an hour ago, “It’s midnight. Twenty-one and up starts now!”

Deirdre rolls her eyes, “Says the man cradling a twenty year old in his lap.”

“He’s _different_ ,” Ezra hisses before rubbing his cheek against Mason’s hair, “He’s Mason. There’s only one Mason in the _world_. I would be sentenced to DEATH if that meant he could be here.”

Mason lifts his head up for the first time since he walked out of the kitchen and meets Ezra’s eyes, “I don’t want you to die. I never want that. I’ll leave if it means you’ll live. I’d walk home. Barefoot. You’re not going to die like the Glovers did.”

“They died for their religion,” Ezra says, trying to comfort Mason, “Sorcery with a dash of Catholicism. I would be dying for _you_. So much more important. You’re my religion.”

“Ezra, how drunk _are_ you?” Deirdre asks, shaking her head in what might be disgust.

“Drunk enough to know that I’m a Masoholic,” Ezra tells her, pulling Mason closer, “And he’s staying. The other people his age and younger need to go. They are babies. But Mason is my baby. Those freshmen are just infants that I am babysitting. They go home at a certain time. Mason stays forever because he’s MINE. You understand?”

“No,” Deirdre says, “Mason, do you understand what he’s saying?”

Mason leans across Ezra’s lap to get closer to Deirdre, “He’s saying that the mean and the median number of 20 and 22 is 21, making us BOTH 21.”

Ezra feels pride form in his chest and Mason’s response and snuggles him, “Deirdre, isn’t he so good at math? Isn’t he intelligent? He’s so smart, that’s why I like him so much. And he smells nice, even after lacrosse practice. I’m pretty sure he is also a sorcerer because of that, but we’re NOT cousins. Not even 6th cousins, twice removed.”

“No one ever implied that you are related to him,” Deirdre says, seeming confused.

“He also has an subtle, professional, and stylish approach to fashion,” Ezra continues, “I have one of his sweaters and it’s so warm and nice. When wintertime comes, I’ll wear it all of the time because Mason said I could have it. He’s so giving. He means so much to me.”

“No, you mean so much to _me_ ,” Mason says seriously, a somber look on his face. Ezra frowns because he doesn’t WANT Mason to look somber. He doesn’t want him to be sad. Why is Mason sad? Why why why why why-

“Why are you sad?” Ezra asks desperately putting his hands on Mason’s cheeks to try to pull them upwards because maybe that will help. It doesn’t, not really, Ezra probably needs clips to pin up Mason’s eyebrows or something, “I don’t want you to be sad. I threw this party so you’d feel happy, appreciated, and loved. I don’t understand.”

Mason lets out a dramatic groan before letting himself collapse over Ezra’s lap. Ezra lets out a soft, concerned sound before making tender shushing noises in an attempt to make everything better. 

“I’m going to kick out your unwanted infants,” Deirdre sighs as she walks away before briefly turning around, “You’re both being ridiculous and sappy right now. I don’t care that you’re both wasted. If this exchange doesn’t finally lead to something happening between the two of you, I’m going to be pissed off.”

“Why is she mad at me?” Mason asks, lifting his head up briefly to watch Deirdre bribe the freshmen out of the apartment.

“She’s not mad at you,” Ezra says firmly, leading Mason’s head back down, “She’s mad at herself. But why are you sad at yourself?”

“That makes no sense,” Mason says, his cheek squished against Ezra’s arm. Ezra runs his fingers through Mason’s hair - slowly this time, possibly seeing how many different directions he can get Mason’s hair to go - before they are approached by Ryan, carrying a large ziploc bag of brownies. 

“Want some?” is all Ryan says, handing the bag over, which is strange since Ryan has been making everyone pay him ten dollars or send him the money through an app.

“What’s the catch?” Ezra asks, right at the same time Mason asks, “How much?”

“No charge. Ezra and I made out before. We’re cool,” Ryan shrugs, “He’s also providing the venue. And you’re the guest of honor, right?”

“You made out with him?” Mason asks, sounding inexplicably stressed out and even more upset, “When? When I was in the kitchen?”

“I made out with him over two years ago,” Ezra says pointedly, needing Mason to know that no one got even a taste of Ezra’s lips tonight, as rare as that may be. In fact, he hasn’t kissed anyone since the improv play he was in a month ago. That has to be a record for him. Up until the last couple of months, Ezra has always had at least one makeout partner per party. He has been a lot pickier about who he would actually hook up with since the fall, but he never failed to find someone to get into a makeout session with. He should find someone to make out with. The problem is that he only wants to make out with Mason. That is literally all he wants to do. Ezra stares down at Mason’s lips for a moment and thinks of bending down and just doing it before shaking himself out of the intrusive thoughts. Not here, not when they’re drunk, not in front of Deirdre’s weed dealer. Not in front of the dealer who just casually mentioned that he made out with Ezra - in front of Ezra’s alleged soulmate, nonetheless. How dare he-

“Mason, you don’t need weed,” Ezra says, sighing, as soon as Mason reaches up for the brownie, “Why do you want weed?”

“I don’t want weed. I want chocolate,” Mason says, taking a bite before Ezra can even think about stopping him, “...It tastes dry. I don’t like it.

“Making delicious baked goods is not my main concern,” Ryan says, “But you’ll like it later. Swear on my life, man.”

“Why did you give him a brownie?” Ezra asks, slightly behind in the conversation, “I said no.”

Ryan gives him a strange look, “No, you didn’t.”

“I said it in my head,” Ezra retorts, then lets out a sigh, “We have to be on the same level, Mason. That’s how it has to be right now.”

“Huh?” Mason asks, looking up in confusion, “Why?”

“Because unless I am completely sober, then I have to be on your level,” Ezra says. Why doesn’t Mason understand that? Ezra knows that he would never take advantage of Mason, but on the off chance that Mason would ever come onto him while Ezra is inebriated but not QUITE as inebriated as Mason is, he might not have the same kind of willpower to refuse. Ethically, this is the right thing to do.

Eating the pot brownie is the only way. 

“I want one too,” Ezra says, reaching up to take a brownie out of Ryan’s bag before shoving it in his mouth, “I have to have one now. See what all of the fuss is about.”

“There is no fuss,” Mason insists, “They’re dry. The strawberry baked Alaska we shared was so much better. Even the _snails_ were better.”

Ryan purses his lips, “Your boyfriend is sort of a dick, Ezra.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Ezra says, for Mason’s sake. Ezra would personally love it if Mason was his boyfriend. But he’s not, despite everybody thinking that he is. He doesn’t want to hold Mason back from meeting anyone new. A nice girl, probably. Mason has only been with girls. That’s what he said. He probably won’t want to switch everything up now. Regardless, Ezra knows that despite what the psychics said to further mess with his head and heart, Mason likely does not feel the same way. At all. He might come off like he’s flirting with Ezra sometimes, but that’s just best friend flirting. Ezra is sure Mason doesn’t want some made up label as Ezra’s boyfriend to keep him from finding someone with boobs.

But then he feels something wet against his forearm. At first, Ezra assumes that Mason is drooling or something. He doesn’t know whether to laugh it off or ignore it. However, when Mason’s shoulders start to shake, even a drunken Ezra can’t misinterpret what’s happening any other way. Ezra quickly reaches up and puts a hand on Mason’s shoulder to shake it. 

“Hey! What’s wrong?” Ezra asks in a frantic voice, all while Ryan gets a guilty look on his face.

“Look, I was just being defensive, man,” Ryan says, taking a step back, “You’re right. The brownies are dry. I overbaked them or put too much flour in or something. You’re not a dick for pointing out the obvious.”

Ezra lets out an offended gasp, “You DID call him a dick. Fuck you! Get out of my apartment!”

Ryan rolls his eyes, “Whatever. He’ll feel fine in a couple of hours. MORE than fine. Love Potion Number 1 is a specialty.”

“Love Po…” Ezra stops and then holds his hand up, “Ryan, what the fuck does this strain do?”

Ryan shrugs, “It makes you euphoric, tingly, and creative...and horny.”

“No,” Ezra starts, gathering Mason in his arms to protect him from the brownie that’s already in both of their stomachs, “What did you _do_?”

“Dude, relax,” Ryan says, scoffing, “The fact that you’re both wasted is going to make the effects low key. Probably. Actually, I have no idea. But you might fall asleep before you get to that point and just wake up with a wet spot or something. You know, most couples get excited when they find out about the aphrodisiac effects. Makes them fuck three times in a row.”

“I don’t need help with my libido!” Ezra groans, before stomping his feet on the ground, causing the top half of Mason’s body to move up and down, “I was an impulsive sex addict up until last fall!”

“It’s not like it’s viagra, chill out!” Ryan says, “It’s more mental. The openness, euphoria, and wanting to touch everything inevitably leads to wanting to get laid.”

“Well…” Ezra says, before letting out a breath, “Mason, it’s going to come down to you then. If I start hitting on ANYONE - even if it’s you, ESPECIALLY if it’s you - then I want you to punch me, tie me up, and throw me in a closet.”

Mason lets out a choked sound, “...Why especially if it’s me? Am I really that ugly?”

“Oh god, I’m going to talk to that girl who said she’d give me a blowjob in the bathroom for a brownie,” Ryan scoffs, “Hopefully, you both get around to doing the same.”

Ezra is just going to ignore the prostitution going on in his apartment. He ignores Ryan’s departure altogether because that is not as nearly as important as the words that just came out of Mason’s mouth. As soon as Ezra processes them, he gives Mason’s form a double take and jerks back, “What? No! Believe me, you’re FAR from ugly. Would I call you cute and adorable twenty-seven times a day if I thought you were ugly?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” Mason says, sounding crestfallen, “You are the best actor at Dartmouth. Apparently the best lay at Dartmouth too. That’s what Pedro said. You can have anyone, I get that, but the fact that I’m the LAST person you want to hit on-”

“When I’m like this!” Ezra says forcefully, shaking Mason a little, “Not in general!”

Ezra lets out a groan and throws the upper half of his body over Mason’s, “You’re _beautiful_. I would tell you each part of you that is beautiful - which is likely every SINGLE part - but you’re hiding your damn face.”

“Because I don’t want you to see it right now,” Mason says, his voice muffled, “I don’t want anyone to.”

Ezra nods sadly, not in acceptance but in resignation, and decides to wait Mason out silently. Because they ARE talking about this - this low self-esteem that has Mason getting so down. A part of Ezra’s mind - the part that isn’t quite so ridiculously drunk - is telling him that it might just be the alcohol in Mason’s system that has him acting like this. Tequila specifically, because apparently that is a thing. But then the same logical part of Ezra’s brain is telling him that Mason has given him hints before. He won’t show his writing to anyone. He doesn’t think there are any Masoholics other than Ezra and that’s just preposterous. Mason is usually shy around people when he doesn’t know the majority of them - or when he isn’t destroying people above him in order to fight for those who need a voice. Mason is a fucking conundrum to Ezra. Shy one second, a badass the next, then back to shy. Just this morning, he just casually threw out that whole ‘Come on, honey’ line like the suave little fucker he can be. But tonight, he went to hide out in the kitchen, even though he is the man of the night. 

Ezra needs to sleep on it. Just for a few minutes. Mason is in his lap so he can’t go to his room. Until that can eventually happen, he’ll just use Mason as a pillow. 

\------------------------

Mason watches the crowd filter out of the apartment little by little as Ezra continues to stay passed out on his shoulder. He knows he should move but it’s like last night. He doesn’t WANT to be away from Ezra, even though Ezra made it clear he would rather hit on anyone over Mason. It’s kind of a cruel thing to say. Ezra isn’t the type to be cruel so he doesn’t understand why he said it at all. Ezra might not be aware of all of the confusing thoughts going through Mason’s head, the ones that make Mason feel like Ezra means a lot more to him than a best friend. The ones that wonder about the good dreams he has. Nowadays, the good dreams always have Ezra in them.

They aren’t really sex dreams...okay, a couple of them have been sex dreams. But sex dreams are weird. One time he had a sex dream about his Chemistry teacher when he was 17 - before he even had sex - and his Chemistry teacher had been a 72 year old woman with gout. He hadn't been attracted to her. She was honestly the meanest teacher he ever had. Maybe Mason is into older people. Tia had been six months older, Tiva had been a year older, Zira had been three years older, the one night stand - Elsa - had been six years older, and Ezra is two years, three months, and seventeen days older. They aren't inappropriately old though. The only inappropriately older person had been…

Mason isn't going to think about that. He can't. He can't freak out right now. He'd rather go into a gay panic about Ezra and wonder why he's falling for someone who thinks he's ugly.

But he’s never slept with Ezra. Ever. He’s just slept with him in his head, maybe twice. It’s clear that Ezra probably doesn’t even want THAT happening. 

But most of his good dreams aren’t sex dreams. Sometimes Molly and his parents make an appearance and they all tell Mason how great Ezra is and how much they like him and that they’re happy that he’s happy. More often than not, the dreams would be boring to anyone else. They mainly consist of Mason lying around with some dream version of Ezra doing something mundane, but they are always mundane coupley things. Sometimes they are lying out in the courtyard in between classes on a blanket underneath a tree. Sometimes they are on the couch watching a movie. There was one dream he had where they were driving along some back roads and got caught in a rainstorm. Ezra had to pull over because it was too hard to see due to the rain and darkness. In that dream, they ended up folding the backseat of Ezra’s Honda Civic flat before camping out in it, lying side by side. Of course they had to get out of the car to do it, which made them get soaked, causing them to both strip down to their underwear and hold each other for warmth. It had been the most cliche dream he has ever had in his entire life. It doesn’t matter though. Ezra doesn’t want any of Mason’s dreams about them to manifest into reality anyway.

As 1 am hits, more people begin to leave and by 1:30 am, Deirdre is kicking people out since Hallie comes out bitching about the noise. Mason is grateful for Hallie in that moment. Hallie can be intimidatingly serious at times, but Mason is socially exhausted right now. Although, he is surprised that Zane doesn’t come and ask if he needs a ride. Zane barely gives him more than a glance when he leaves. When he does, it’s done with an eye roll with a simple, “Night, Mason. Have fun. See you tomorrow. Maybe.”

But the more Mason thinks about, long after everyone goes home and he is just left with Ezra sleeping on top of his shoulder and Deirdre leaving the room to go to her bedroom, the more he realizes that Zane likely meant sex fun. Apparently, Zane and Yas think he and Ezra are a thing. He doesn’t know why, not when Ezra obviously isn’t into him like that. Ezra could literally have anyone. Absolutely anyone. And other than implying that Mason is ugly, Ezra is sweet and kind enough to have the best person.

Mason needs to get away. He just needs to go and sit on the couch. He needs space.

He might roll off the loveseat in a futile attempt to not wake Ezra. It doesn’t end up working at all, even as he crawls silently on the floor and climbs up onto the couch. When he’s finally sitting elsewhere, he sees that Ezra is sitting up straight and staring at him in confusion. 

“Why’d you move?” Ezra asks sadly.

Mason shrugs half-heartedly but doesn’t say anything else. Ezra doesn’t grill him on it though. He just props his chin up with his hand and rests his elbow on the armrest. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Ezra says out of nowhere, staring right into Mason’s eyes, “Like, you’re the best person I know.”

He’s probably just saying that because he accidentally called Mason ugly earlier. 

“You go out of your way to help me and make me feel so happy,” Ezra says softly, “You helped me with the play and got more money for it than I could have hoped for, but that’s not even close to my favorite thing about you. You act like I’m worth spending time with. You uh...You entertain my need to escape and get out of town without question. Most would question it, but you don’t. You’re just...You’re my favorite person. I don’t know why you put up with my dramatic ass half of the time, but I wanted you to know that I appreciate that you do.”

Mason blinks and feels his breath hitch, “You don’t know why I put up with it?”

Ezra just shakes his head no, not seeming to really want or expect an answer as to why Mason wants to be around him so much. Mason should just keep his answer minimal. Tell Ezra that he appreciates him and has fun with him and keep it at that. But as soon as he opens his mouth, something else comes pouring out entirely.

“You…” Mason starts, then breathes in, “You’re the kindest person I know. You go out of your way to make sure I have fun. You go out of your way to check and see whether or not I feel okay. You don’t expect anything in return and act like me helping with your play is something you can never show enough gratitude for, like you didn’t deserve that kind of help even though we both know how good your play is. But even if it wasn’t one of the best plays I’ve read, I would have still helped you. You’re my favorite person too and you deserve e-everything...”

And suddenly, all of the stupid emotions that had been leaking out on and off all night in the form of sulking, low self-esteem, and stray tears come pouring out as the dam embarrassingly bursts. Mason quickly puts his hands over his face to hide it but that barely muffles the sobs escaping him and trying to stop just makes it ten times worse.

“Mason, no!” Ezra calls out, sounding distressed as he literally leaps out of his seat and over the coffee table to sit next to Mason on the couch, only to wrap him up in his arms again, “Don’t cry! I’m going to cry if you keep crying because I never want you to be sad…”

Ezra trails off before weeping into Mason’s shoulder, which only makes Mason cry _harder_ because the last thing he wanted to do was upset Ezra and now here they are. Mason tries to get himself under control so that Ezra will calm down, but he can’t. Right now, they’re both just feeding off each other and escalating. It probably won’t stop until one of them begins hyperventilating.

“Oh my god, both of you need to go to bed,” Deirdre’s voice suddenly says from their right, “Seriously. I can hear you both wailing from my bedroom. I thought something awful happened and here you are, acting like two wasted white girls.”

Ezra picks his head up at that and begins to yell, his voice filled with pain, “Don’t make fun of white people, okay?! I’m a quarter Jewish and a sixth Irish! You’re insulting a confusing percentage of my heritage according to Ancestry.com!”

“You are both drunk and getting worked up over nothing, Ezra,” Deirdre says, sounding like this conversation has possibly happened in some way before, “Go. To. Bed.”

“No!” Ezra shouts, “Go away!”

“You’re both so…” Deirdre starts, then lets out a groan before leaving the room.

“Mason, look at me,” Ezra says, grabbing at Mason’s hand covered face, “Mason, please. It’s important.”

Mason shakes his head because he can’t hear anything important from Ezra right now. He can’t hear him say that the psychics lied. He can’t hear him say that it would probably be for the best that they not be friends-

“You’re my best friend,” Ezra chokes out, running his hands down the sides of Mason’s head in what might be meant to be a soothing manner, “You’re my best friend and I always want you in my life. Forever.”

Mason lets out a whine and shakes his head more frantically before putting his hands down, “Stop it. Stop lying. I’m not your best friend. You’re my best friend.”

And it’s true. Ezra has plenty of friends - plenty of people who feel close to him and love him. Ezra shouldn’t give that title to Mason, especially when the best case scenario would be Ezra finding a best friend in the person who ends up being the love of his life - his REAL soulmate, not Mason. Never Mason. Mason is the last person Ezra wants to hit on.

However, despite Mason’s sound yet internalized reasoning, Ezra leans back in offense, “No. You’re MY best friend.”

Mason lets out a frustrated noise and wipes at his face, knocking his glasses off his face in the process, “Stop saying shit you don’t mean! You’re _my_ best friend! That’s an established fact! I won’t find a better best friend than you but you can literally have anyone-”

“And I want YOU,” Ezra says sternly, scrambling for his glasses to put them on the coffee table, “You’re my best friend, that's just how it is.”

“Why are you lying?” Mason says, gripping his hair, “You’re MY best friend, yes, but I am NOT your best friend. That’s fucking ridiculous.”

Ezra growls, “How? How is that ridiculous? It is far from unbelievable, I know that much. I don’t invite anyone else to come find my dead ancestor’s memorial with me. I don’t eat snails with just anyone I see. I don’t let my mom facetime with all of the friends that I have. I don’t get hot air balloon birthday rides for every person in my life. You’re my best friend. Say that you’re not again and we’ll have a problem.”

Mason opens his mouth to argue more because they DO have a problem. A big one that’s fucking with Mason’s head. But all of the sudden, a really nice feeling comes over him. It’s out of nowhere and Mason would be confused and almost concerned by it if it didn’t feel like he was suddenly floating on a cloud. 

“Okay,” Mason says instead, then looks at Ezra’s shoulder before leaning down to rub his face against it, “Your shirt feels nice.”

Mason rubs his face against Ezra’s shirt more insistently, “Why does your shirt feel so nice?”

Ezra looks confused for a second, then sighs, “It’s that brownie. It must have hit you. You just did a fucking 180 because of it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you’re high now since you were being a total dick about me choosing you as my eternal top friend on MySpace. But still, I don’t feel like I actually won the argument.”

“What kind of shirt is this?” Mason asks, choosing to pinch the fabric between his fingers instead of informing Ezra that MySpace is a thing of the past and isn't about friends anymore, “I like it so much. I like _you_ so much.”

“I don’t remember,” Ezra murmurs, then leans against Mason, “I want to lie down, let’s go lie down. We slept on the couch last night. We should sleep in my bed tonight. It's more comfortable. It feels so nice. I like my bed. I miss my bed. You should come with me and sleep in my bed. I want you next to me. Always. I want to hold you like how I was holding you before. Except closer. Face to face. Like hugging but lying down."

That sounds like a good idea to Mason. There is nothing wrong with two best friends holding each other at all, even when there are one-sided and very gay feelings in the mix. Tequila Mason would be a hot mess throughout the whole ordeal, but he’s mostly gone now. Love Potion Mason is much more open to the idea of spending the whole night in an embrace with Ezra in his bed. 

"Okay," Mason whispers when Ezra nuzzles against his cheek. Mason only lasts mere seconds before throwing his arms around him and nuzzling him right back. 

They don't let go of each other as they walk from the living room to Ezra's bedroom. They do pass Deirdre on the way. She looks sort of annoyed, but underneath that she seems fondly exasperated and inexplicably relieved about something. At least that's how Mason thinks she looks. He could be wrong. She watches them walk past her and says nothing, but before Ezra can open the door, she rushes over and pushes it closed. She gives Mason a glance, but seems to be waiting for Ezra to focus because she doesn't start speaking until he looks at her. 

"Before you go in there, I just want to make sure of something," Deirdre says slowly, as if they might not understand her, "Since you've been sort of saintly recently, Ezra, do you even have protection? I can give you some stuff if you don't have anything in your room. I am ninety percent sure I have a Magnum or two. That's your brand, right?"

Before Mason can even process the word 'Magnum', Ezra hushes Deirdre insistently, puts a finger on her lips, then gathers Mason up in his arms again. 

"The only protection Mason needs is _me_ ," Ezra tells, "To protect him from your assumptions. To claim that I am not capable when it comes to ensuring his safety-"

"Ezra," Deirdre prompts, cutting Ezra off, "I need you to come back down to Earth for a second. I know you are both fucking wasted, but you have to know that something will happen once you guys get in bed together. You have been all over each other the entire night-"

"Not when I was in the kitchen," Mason corrects as Ezra nods in agreement.

"I thought someone took him, you don't understand how scared I was," Ezra says, pulling Mason closer before looking at Deirdre again, "Which is why you can trust me to protect him. I got scared straight."

Mason gives him a strange look, "You're not straight. Like, at all." 

Deirdre points at Mason, "He's right. And you have been giving yourself blue balls for months. You also both ate those brownies. I don't fuck with that Love Potion stuff. Leticia was dying to organize a gang bang after she smoked it. That's how badly she wanted to get fucked. I am telling you, in about thirty minutes, the two of you will be doing something sexual together, especially if you are so set on sharing a bed tonight. Boners will be inevitable. Look, I’ll go to the living room so I won’t overhear anything. I was going to do that anyway to catch up on my show. It’s part of the reason why I asked you guys to go to bed. Now that you are, let me give you a condom and some lube."

Ezra waves her off and strokes Mason's hair as Mason begins rubbing his face against Ezra's shirt again because this conversation is taking forever and this is all he wants to do right now but Deirdre is so set on talking. 

"We are NOT Leticia," Ezra says soundly. And what Ezra is saying is true. Neither of them are Leticia, "I don't want sex. Mason definitely doesn't want sex."

Deirdre's eyes flick over to Mason, who is running his hand over Ezra's pec while he nuzzles into the crook of Ezra's neck, "Mason is literally trying to live inside of your skin. The horny part comes right after that."

"Mason is not trying to live inside my skin," Ezra says, smiling at Mason sweetly when Mason looks up at his name before Ezra starts stroking his cheek, "He's trying to live inside my shirt. You're a really big fan at the moment, aren't you?"

"I want to go lie down," Mason says, feeling put out, "You said we were going to lie down together. You said that you were going to hold me. I want you to hold me all night and she's talking all night."

Ezra nods and presses his forehead against Mason's. They both let their noses rub against each other affectionately before Ezra forces his head back up, "Okay. Deirdre, shush. Keep your condoms. We'll be fine. I don't sleep with people who are under the influence, you know this."

Deirdre scoffs, "You have when you are just as wasted, if not more. Pedro is just one example."

"Fuck Pedro," Mason says, scowling, "I don't want to talk about him."

"Why?" Deirdre asks, "Because of what he said about Ezra in the kitchen to upset you just enough so that this would happen?"

Mason tilts his head in confusion. How does she know that Pedro upset him? But before he can ask, Ezra quickly opens the door, pushes Mason into the bedroom, and shuts it.

"Goodnight, Deirdre!" Ezra calls out, "Love you!"

Mason doesn't know who is leading who but they both end up tumbling onto the bed at the same time in a heap. Ezra is the one who gets them situated. He sits up, pulls Mason's shoes off in a clumsy manner before taking off his own, then straightens Mason out so that he's fully lying down and comfortable. After that happens, Ezra stays true to his promise when he pulls Mason in as close as possible. Mason shudders into the embrace before returning it, his arms firmly wrapped around Ezra’s back. The tips of their noses are barely touching and Mason can feel Ezra's breath against his lips. It's overwhelming, to feel that and not being able to kiss someone. So Mason tilts his head down to look at where their chests are pressed together, breathing in sync. The sight almost makes him as entranced as how close Ezra's mouth is to his own. He only feels closer to him when Ezra presses their foreheads together affectionately again, like he did out in the hall, but they feel closer now. What is Ezra doing? He isn't flirting, Mason knows that. Mason is the last person Ezra ever wants to hit on.

But despite that, Ezra leans back a little to lift one arm up to trace Mason’s face carefully with his finger, “I meant it when I said that you are beautiful. Every inch of you is gorgeous.”

It doesn't sound like a lie, but it doesn't feel like the truth either. The sting of Ezra just saying it out of pity is muted due to the feeling of euphoria still coursing through him. But the fact that it's still technically there sucks.

"You don't have to say that," Mason says gently, trying to not lean into Ezra's hand too much.

“I don’t have to say what? The truth?” Ezra asks, tilting Mason’s chin back up, “Because that’s what this is.”

Mason stares at Ezra for several moments before letting out a breath, “Really?” 

Ezra nods, staring directly into his eyes despite their faces being so close, “We’ll start from the top. Your hair is beautiful. I like how it seems to change colors with the light. It’s so pretty.”

To Mason’s surprise, Ezra leans up to kiss the top of Mason’s head softly. Despite feeling a lot calmer than before, he feels his heart skip a beat at the gesture and he does briefly wonder if Ezra felt it in his own chest. But before he can ask, Ezra moves onto his eyes. 

“Your eyes. They are such a beautiful light blue. An ice blue. But you make them seem so warm. They’re so expressive, especially when you’re sad. I hate it when you’re sad, but you look so cute at the same time.”

Mason’s breath hitches as Ezra presses light kisses against each of his eyelids before moving on.

“You have the cutest nose,” Ezra says, pressing a kiss against it, then kisses his cheek, “Gorgeous cheeks. A beautiful face. You’re _beautiful_.”

“You’re beautiful too,” Mason whispers. Maybe it’s the weed that’s making him do it or maybe it’s just giving him the courage to do something he’s been wanting to do, but hesitantly, Mason gives Ezra a kiss back. Just on the cheek since it would take a LOT for him to just go right for the lips. But when Ezra presses another kiss against Mason’s face, Mason places his second kiss against Ezra’s jaw, then places his third kiss against Ezra’s eyebrow while Ezra’s places one against the side of his chin.

Maybe being high is making Mason’s sense of time all screwed up, but they keep kissing each other like that for what feels like an hour. Never on the lips, although Mason constantly finds himself looking. The closest they get is the corner of each other's mouths. It would be so easy to turn those into actual kisses, so easy to just aim literal centimeters to the left or turn his head slightly when Ezra kisses him in the same spot. They kiss each other there more than anywhere else. It's almost if they are daring each other to do it. Mason wants to give in - so fucking badly - but he can't. Ezra could do it since he's brave enough. He probably just doesn't want to. And while that hurts Mason, it doesn't hurt him as much as it would if he weren't high. More than anything, the kisses there just turn him on. 

Deirdre had been right. Boners do end up being inevitable. The thing is, they don’t even notice them until after they are grinding against each other and kissing each other’s necks. 

“Shit,” Ezra says, pulling back a little, “Let’s uh...Let’s slow down, huh? Can’t believe I’m saying this, but this um...this probably isn’t a good idea. We are both really, really fucked up right now.”

Mason won’t look up - he can’t - because it brings the facts right back around. Ezra will never want him, not like that, not when he can have anyone. It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid that he’s feeling so damn hurt by it. Just a few hours ago, Mason hadn’t been completely sure about what Ezra has been doing to him. He’s still not sure, not really. It just isn’t as complicated now that he’s drunk and high on some fucking love potion. Ezra makes him happy. Ezra makes him feel safe. Ezra is funny, intelligent, and admirable. He’s also the most beautiful human being Mason has ever met. 

It’s not hard to add up, not when he’s like this. He can’t say it though, even though being halfway out of his head would make saying it a lot easier. 

“Sorry,” Mason says instead, shifting back a little, not able to look at Ezra at all, “I went too far.”

It takes Ezra a second to answer, “...You’re sorry? Mason, no. No, _I’m_ sorry. If anyone went too far here, it’s me. It...Look, anything weird happening here is because of me. It’s not on you, you understand?”

Mason shakes his head, “No.”

Mason can’t focus on Ezra’s rambling explanation. Even if he could, he’s pretty sure it doesn’t make that much sense. Something about experience and Mason deserving better than a drunken first time if he does ever get with a guy and blah blah blah. He knows Ezra means well. He gets that. But he can’t focus on it, not right now, not when-

“Ezra, please stop talking,” Mason gets out before letting his head hit Ezra’s shoulder as he lets out a shuddering breath, “Just stop. I can’t focus on it right now. I am too busy trying to get my dick calm down and I can’t. I don’t think I have ever been this hard in my life.”

Ezra lets out a soft sound before cupping the back of Mason’s neck, “...Okay...Maybe we can uh...Maybe we can take turns in the shower. Or...Or I’ll stay and jerk off in here and you can have the shower, I don’t know.”

“I don’t want the shower,” Mason says, shaking his head, “Deirdre will see me as soon as I go out into the hall. You know she will see. She’s catching up on that stupid reality show.”

“Dating Naked? Yeah, it is pretty dumb,” Ezra says, biting his cheek, “Do you...Do we...fuck, I don’t know. We’re uh...We’re not having sex. It’s not gay if we don’t touch each other’s dicks.”

“That sounds like something Zane would say,” Mason says, trying to take deep and steady breaths to stay calm, all while Ezra jerks back.

“Wait, have you and Zane jerked off together?” Ezra asks seriously, “I thought that only happened in frat porn.”

Mason closes his eyes and tries to keep himself from touching himself, “No. That was a decent attempt in trying to get my dick to chill out though. It didn’t work, but it probably would have under other circumstances. Just...fuck, if we’re going to do this, can we actually start doing it? No pressure, but I think I’m about to die.”

Ezra lets out a shaky breath and eventually nods, “...Okay. As long as you’re not going to freak out as soon as we come or tomorrow morning. You won’t ditch me after we do this, right? Because I uh...I wouldn’t be able to handle that. I meant it when I said you’re my best friend.”

Mason shakes his head, “I won’t ditch you. I would never.”

Ezra is the one who makes sure the sheet is over their waists before they unzip their pants and underwear and slide them off. The shirts stay on. Maybe they are too fucked up to care, but they don’t face opposite directions once they start. It doesn’t even occur to Mason to turn on his opposite side until his hand is already on his dick. No, he and Ezra continue to stay on their sides, facing each other. He starts off slowly. Going by the movement beneath the sheet, Ezra must be starting out slow too. Mason is actually glad he’s high for this. The silence, lack of touch, and lack of eye contact would be unnerving if he was sober enough to care more. 

But when they both begin to increase their speed, that’s when something in the air begins to change. Ezra finally looks at him - really looks at him - before bringing Mason’s head closer to his. They don’t kiss on the lips - they can’t because Ezra doesn’t like him like that - but Ezra begins kissing the side of his neck again. Mason takes that as permission to do the same. He does it because it feels good. He does it because he wants to. He does it because it makes everything about whatever the fuck is happening right now so much better. When Mason cranes his neck upwards and stifles a groan, Ezra presses wet kisses all across it and down to where the base of his neck meet his collarbone. When Mason reaches up to cradle Ezra’s face with one hand, Ezra pulls him in until they are just a couple of inches away from each other again. They’re close enough for Mason to feel Ezra’s hand occasionally hit his beneath the sheet. They are close enough that the heads of their dicks touch even more. Mason has a strong urge to take his hand off of his own erection and put it on Ezra’s - to be the one who makes him feel good. But he doesn’t do that. Ezra never said they could do that. Ezra is kind of making things confusing by kissing Mason’s neck, face, and the corner of his mouth. Although, maybe Mason is confusing Ezra since he’s doing the same thing to him. Mason can’t even remember who started what at this point. What he can remember is that Ezra did make it clear that they weren’t going to have sex. He also made it clear that jerking off together isn’t gay if they don’t touch each other’s dicks. But did that whole rule go out the window when their dicks touched? It happened multiple times, but it was by accident. It’s probably not gay if it’s by accident, but it probably is extremely gay if it turns Mason on even more whenever it happens. 

When the pressure and arousal begins to build close to a climax, Mason stops analyzing every move he and Ezra make. This is probably something a lot of college guys have done and it most likely rarely meant anything afterwards. They probably just enjoyed the moment and moved on. So that’s what Mason lets himself do. When he’s close to coming, he presses his face into Ezra’s shoulder and muffles the cry of his release. Ezra is the one who copies him this time since he does the same thing moments after. It isn’t after Mason comes down a little bit more that he realizes Ezra shot his load on him and vice versa. Surprisingly, it doesn’t gross him out or make him feel weird. If anything, it makes him feel like he would get hard again from the knowledge if he weren’t so exhausted. 

“Here,” Ezra says, sounding tired as well as he hands Mason a tissue. Mason tries not to watch Ezra reach beneath the sheet to clean himself off and decides to focus on wiping himself off instead. He slips his boxer briefs back on. The pants wouldn’t be comfortable to sleep in at all. Ezra seems to have the same idea.

“You good?” Ezra asks. When Mason glances over, he sees Ezra looking at him with big, apprehensive eyes and remembers what Ezra said before. 

_"You won’t ditch me after we do this, right? Because I uh...I wouldn’t be able to handle that. I meant it when I said you’re my best friend.”_

“Mm-mmm,” Mason hums, trying to stay normal for Ezra - a friend, “Tired.”

“Yeah,” Ezra says, then clears his throat, “Do you...Do you still want me to hold you?”

That’s what he had said out in the hall, after Ezra offered on the couch. That’s what he wanted. It’s what he still wants. Badly. Maybe it’s just because Ezra still has his shirt on and it really is the best feeling shirt Mason has ever felt, but he wants to feel Ezra’s arms around him, even if it ends up fucking with his head more. Tomorrow, Mason will work on sorting everything out in his head. Tonight, he just doesn’t want to think. 

So Mason nods his head and Ezra slowly brings Mason back into his arms. They don’t kiss anymore, their high not quite as intense as it was before, but they hold each other close and Mason finds comfort in resting his cheek against Ezra’s shoulder while Ezra rubs his back until he falls asleep.

Despite everything that happened tonight, the nightmare in the car still has him worried. He worries about a stint of night terrors and restless nights. He knows that it can still happen, because he's not okay. After what happened to him before, he's never going to be fully okay. But as he lies there with his best friend and drifts off to sleep, he lets himself feel comforted, warm, and safe in his embrace.

And just for tonight, he feels that way in his dreams as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for the lovely comments on Part 1!


	7. Mid to Late June 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mason begins to pull away, but not necessarily for the reason Ezra thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for descriptions of undiagnosed and unlabeled PTSD and depression

Despite Ezra normally being the early bird out of the two of them, Mason wakes up first. It doesn’t take him long to remember what happened - mere seconds, really. Remembering causes his stomach to churn and not even due to a hangover. Mason doesn’t feel fantastic, but considering how fucked up they got last night, he’s doing surprisingly okay when it comes to any physical symptoms. He isn’t nauseated and he doesn’t have cotton mouth. He has somewhat of a headache, but it isn’t anything he can’t sleep off. And that’s what he would try to do if he actually could go back to sleep.

Because his head itself? The thoughts suddenly hitting him? That’s a whole different ball park. The fact that Ezra’s arms are still around him are a comfort. He feels safe being held by them and he doesn’t want it to end. But there is an agony attached to the whole situation because this is probably never going to happen again. Ezra is going to wake up, let go of Mason immediately, and pretend that this never happened. 

Mason gets to have that feeling of being embraced for another hour though. It’s a feeling he isn’t used to at all. He had done most of the holding when it came to his past girlfriends. The one time it had been the other way around had been when Zira held him after he had a nightmare. He didn’t talk about it with her - he said absolutely nothing - but she had comforted him until he went back to sleep. It almost came off as motherly.

Ezra’s hold on him doesn’t feel motherly...or fatherly. Ezra’s hold on him just feels secure and loving and Mason never wants to leave it. Ezra feels like an equal and a friend and that’s probably all true. Anything more than that, Mason is liking projecting onto the situation. He feels so confused. And it sucks, because the one person he could probably talk to about this is the one causing the confusion in the first place. He’s the one that will either let Mason down easy or gently pull away once he realizes Mason is confused and latching onto Ezra for a reason. 

He feels like crying. Again. He can’t even blame the tequila this time. 

Around 10 am, Ezra wakes up with a groan and Mason turns on his side when Ezra opens his eyes. 

“Morning,” Ezra says softly to Mason’s back. Mason suddenly wishes that he hadn’t turned around, he wishes he could see what Ezra’s expression is and try to figure out what he’s thinking. But now that he’s done it, he can’t turn back around. He is too much of a coward and Ezra probably senses that since Mason can feel him put a hand on his shoulder only to take it off a few seconds later. 

“I’m going to get a shower,” Ezra says as he climbs out of bed, “Interesting night. A lot crazier things have been done while drunk and high though. You need the bathroom before I go in?”

Mason stares at Ezra’s desk before working up the courage to get out a, “...No, go ahead.”

Ezra doesn’t leave straight away. He gets his clothes and whatever he needs, which is expected. What Mason doesn’t expect is for him to hover at the door for close to a minute, like he wants to say something. Mason wishes he would just leave already. He feels like he’s about to burst. 

And as soon as Ezra’s is out and Mason hears the bathroom door close, he does. Tears fall down his face and his breath hitches as he tries not to cry as hard as he did last night. It’s mainly over Ezra and the fact that last night was obviously nothing to him other than ‘interesting’. He can brush it off like it’s nothing. Understandably so. Ezra is a normal guy when it comes down to it. He can hook up whenever he wants and not need to feel like he’s in love with the person or close to it. He doesn’t need intense peer pressure to do it either. He just needs alcohol and weed, enough to make Mason okay to look at, then can forget about the encounter the next morning. Mason can’t hook up like that, but that’s on him.

The thing is, he didn’t even hook up with Ezra. They didn’t even kiss on the lips. Ezra probably sees it as nothing because it was nothing. Ezra was just taking care of his boner and here Mason is feeling like it was some huge deal. He is going to have to deal and get over this thing, this crush or weird attachment that he has. That’s his only option. 

But he can’t get over it while he’s in Ezra’s room. He needs to get away from him for a bit, clear his head, and shrug off this crisis. He needs to leave. That’s what he needs to do and if it comes off as a dick move to leave while Ezra is in the shower, then so be it. He’s not just going to disappear on him. He sends Ezra a quick text to say he needs to run some errands, puts his pants back on, grabs his things, and realizes that they drove separately yesterday morning to drop off Mason’s car and his car is at Tri-Kappa. 

He shouldn’t have texted. He shouldn’t have fucking texted. 

Before he can start having a crisis over his stupidity, Hallie walks out of her room, her backpack on her back and car keys in her hand. He’s not close with Hallie at all. Ezra adores her, but Mason is kind of intimidated by her serious demeanor and stern face. But not today. No, he would rather ask her to give him a ride than Ezra. 

“Are you in a hurry?” he asks her, causing her to look up, “I’m sorry. I just really need to get back to campus and Ezra is in the shower. You know how long he can take when he has a day off. If you aren’t going in that direction, I’ll pay you-”

“I’m going to campus,” Hallie sighs, then continues to walk towards the door, “Get your shit and let’s go. Although, you aren’t transparent about whatever freak out you are having. At all.”

Mason can’t say anything to that. He can’t say anything to one of Ezra’s closest friends. Unlike Yas or even Deirdre who have several alliances, Hallie mainly claims Ezra and that’s it. Mason is sure she and Deirdre care for each other in a sisterly way, but Hallie and Ezra have a weird sort of bond. Hallie doesn’t seem like the type to blab, but he knows she would say something if Ezra simply asked her. 

But luckily, Hallie doesn’t push. They drive mostly in silence back to Hanover and within 30 minutes, she pulls up to Tri-Kappa and they part uneventfully. He heads up to his room without running into any of the guys, turns his phone off, and tries to sleep. He surprisingly does. Maybe his headache is worse than he thought or maybe it’s his mind’s way of trying not to perseverate on what happened last night, but he sleeps right up until he dreams of a gun being pointed to his head and the sound of a voice barking orders. The sound of a zipper unzipping.

It has him sitting up and gasping for breath. While last night fucked him up in other ways, it had also given him a false sense of security. Whether it had been the alcohol in his system or the fact that he felt safe despite possibly fucking things up with Ezra forever, the vague dreams he does remember were good. They hadn’t been sex dreams - shockingly - but those dreams had taken him to some imaginary world where Ezra holding him had been commonplace. Normal.

When Mason notices a few hours have passed, he lets out a breath, gets up, and turns his phone back on. There are two missed messages from Ezra that were sent two hours apart, ones that make Mason feel like a fucking dick. Mason goes ahead and opens them to get it over with.

**Ezra: I would have taken you back to Tri-Kappa, you know.**

**Ezra: Are you okay? Are we okay?**

What is Mason supposed to say? Yes? Because the fact is, Mason is NOT okay, in multiple ways. He already feels himself fucking spiraling and he felt it even before what happened last night, ever since waking up in the car. But Mason can’t tell Ezra he’s not okay. He can’t tell him he feels so fucking alone, terrified, and sick over a nightmare that’s persisted for over four years. He can’t tell him what happened because Mason hasn’t told anyone so why the fuck would he start now? And on top of that, why would he tell Ezra? Mason never told any of his girlfriends what happened. Ezra isn’t anything more than a friend, even though that feels wrong in Mason’s head. It felt wrong before, probably due to having some sort of crush, and now it feels really wrong because that Adelaide woman fucked with his head. She fucked with his head with the stuff she said about him and Ezra, she fucked with it even more by bringing up Jake. For someone who came off as if she knows everything, she seems to have conveniently not known what kind of damage she just fucking inflicted on him. Now Mason is going to have to spend the next few weeks trying to get his shit together, not only when it comes to Ezra but when it comes to the nightmares.

But he can’t leave Ezra hanging. He can’t do that to him. Mason isn’t dumb. He knows he confused Ezra at best and upset him at worst by just disappearing like that. 

**We’re okay. I’m sorry. I wasn’t feeling well and I didn’t want to get sick at your place. I had errands but I just came back to my room and slept.**

The response Mason gets comes in less than a minute, as if Ezra had been waiting for him to respond. Again, Mason knows he’s a piece of trash.

**Ezra: Do you need anything? I surprisingly feel fine, just needed to sleep in a little, I guess. If you need groceries or whatever, I can do you a solid and cross some errands off your list for you, maybe grab you something to eat if you don't feel like cooking.**

Of course he'd do that for Mason. Even when what happened means nothing, Ezra is still kind and wants to help him out as a friend. But Mason can't handle seeing Ezra right this second. He should be okay enough to handle it tomorrow or in a couple of days, but he doesn't think he can handle Ezra coming into his room, not today.

**It’s fine. I will run out tomorrow. I'm just going to read or something. Thank you though. <3**

He doesn't even realize he sent a heart until after he presses send and he wants to kick himself for it because he apparently can’t control what he texts to Ezra anymore. But before he can think any harder on it and send himself spiraling, his phone pings and Ezra’s text appears on the screen. 

**Ezra: Feel better. Call me if you want to talk or anything <3**

He doesn’t miss the heart Ezra sends him like the one he sent out himself thoughtlessly. He doesn’t miss the way it makes him feel either. The thing with the heart is that - for Ezra - it probably means nothing. It’s a way for him to express platonic affection and care. For Mason, it was a slip up and it revealed what is likely going on in his own heart. Despite all of that, part of him really wants to call Ezra and talk to him. He has always meant it when he said that Ezra is the easiest person for him to talk to. 

But he can’t. Not about this and definitely not about what happened when he was fifteen. Last night, Ezra may have said that he can’t lose Mason as a friend, that he couldn’t handle it. Mason can’t handle losing Ezra as a friend either. 

So he doesn’t talk to Ezra that night. He doesn’t talk to anyone, even when the nightmares keep him from getting a full night’s sleep. Mason just stays in his room, alone, with no company at all. Zane doesn’t even come back. He sends Mason a short text saying he is going to crash with Yas for the week and Mason doesn’t respond, nor does he respond to anyone else, including Ezra. He doesn’t read, he doesn’t write, and he doesn’t watch a movie. He just stays in bed and forces himself to shower once a day. It isn’t the best idea to constantly stay in bed when he’s having constant nightmares, flashbacks, and panic attacks - it never is - but he is finding it harder and harder to do anything else with each passing day. 

\---------------------------

Ezra knows that he fucked up. He can put his focus into waiting on tables to the best of his ability. He can pretend to listen to Deirdre go on and on about this new Italian guy she met. He does a better job than Hallie, at least, as they are sitting there listening to her gush about this Giovanni guy. He is able to be the enthusiastic and charismatic teacher to the freshmen in the summer program on Wednesday morning as well, although that’s the day he almost hits a breaking point. Being on campus makes it so he is closer to Tri-Kappa. Being close to Tri-Kappa means that he is likely close to Mason. Being close to Mason means that Ezra can technically walk right on over, knock on the door, and either act like he’s just a friend stopping in or demand to know why Mason isn’t answering him. Either or. Ezra isn’t sure what will come out. He just knows that he’s been parked across the street from Tri-Kappa for the last half hour and he’s been staring at the house like some sort of stalker.

Only two things get him to leave without seeing Mason. One is the fact he has to go work at the diner and the other is the nagging reminder in his head that he’s the one who fucked up. They may have both consented to what happened after the party, but Mason is younger and has no experience with guys. Ezra shouldn’t have even compromised. He should have just told Mason that while he wouldn’t regret doing anything sexual with Mason, Mason would regret doing something sexual with Ezra once he sobered up. And that’s what happened. Only now, Ezra regrets it too because he probably fucked up everything. 

He’s working a 12 to 6 shift at Molly’s today and it does take his mind off of it a little bit. He’s grateful for the woman who insists that she asked for no lettuce on her burger (a lie, since Ezra double checked on her detailed specifications twice before turning her order in) and wants to speak to a manager, rather than just taking the piece of lettuce off herself. Ezra appreciates the conflict it brings because it gets his mind off of Mason for a few seconds, even if his mind goes to a place of annoyance. Once the matter is settled and the woman eats her food, satisfied with her discount, she beckons him over as she’s standing up to leave and gives him a condescending smile. 

“You’re forgiven for messing up my order,” she says in an overly sweet voice, “I just wanted to give you a tip, as well as my two cents: Try harder next time.”

The woman puts two pennies down on the table before she and her snooty family walk out the door. Ezra just leaves them there and tries not to give into throwing her empty plate at the wall or bursting into tears over a two cent tip for a sixty dollar bill.

Having Yas and Zane show up is actually a relief. At least they aren’t going to be dicks. Ezra really isn’t in the mood to be his own peppy and enthusiastic self, although he can try.

“What can I get you to drink?” he says as soon as he approaches their table. Apparently, he isn’t hiding his mood well at all. Both Yas and Zane look at him sharply, as if he just announced out of nowhere that he has six months to live, before Yas clears her throat. 

“You good, Ezra?” Yas asks, watching him closely.

Ezra shrugs, “I’m here. You want water, soda, what do you want?”

“Oh, man, you aren’t good,” Zane says, then glances at Yas with a questioning look in his eyes. Over what? Ezra doesn’t know. 

“We’ll both have water,” Yas says, then puts a hand on Ezra’s wrist to stop him from walking away, “Have you heard from Mason?”

Ezra drops his attitude as soon as the question is asked, “No. Not since Sunday. Why?”

Yas shrugs, then looks at Zane pointedly, “Zane. We’re here because you were worried. Now he’s worried. Tell him.”

Zane gives her an exasperated look, “I’m not _worried_.”

“You liar,” Yas retorts, “We planned on staying at my place for the week and you specifically wanted to drive over here to check on him. Quit it with the macho bullshit and admit that you care.”

“What’s going on?” Ezra asks, feeling his stomach twist into knots. 

Zane lets out a breath and meets Ezra’s eyes, “Has he been answering any of your texts the last couple of days?”

Ezra shakes his head and swallows, “No. He hasn’t. I’ve heard nothing since Sunday evening. What’s going on?”

“...Probably nothing,” Zane sighs, then shrugs, “He hasn’t answered anyone. He hasn’t answered me or Yas. Apparently hasn’t answered Jackson or Ronnie either. Frankie reached out. Nothing. He’s probably working on something and hyperfocusing. Not uncommon. But still, dick move.”

“We were hungry, so we were going to come in and order take-out but saw that your car so we thought we’d sit in your section and ask,” Yas says, “We figured if anyone would know it would be you.”

“Well, I don’t,” Ezra says, then pulls out his notepad, “Tell me what you want. I’ll have them put a rush on it and pack it up for you guys.”

“I mean, we’re already sitting down-” Yas starts but Ezra waves her off.

“It would make me feel better,” Ezra insists, “Just uh...Just let me know how he’s doing when you find out. Please?”

After Yas and Zane leave, Ezra is left feeling nervous and shaky, thinking what are likely stupid thoughts of Mason in the hospital with amnesia or dead in his bedroom. They are probably ridiculous and Zane is probably right. Mason might be on a writing binge or planning on how to overthrow a department head or something. An hour later, Ezra’s worries are put to rest when Zane texts him and Ezra leaves the floor to check it. 

**Zane: He’s alive. I told him to text you or call you since we made you so nervous about him. Sorry man.**

**What was keeping him from answering?**

**Zane: Idk. Not the first time he’s done it. He feels really bad about worrying you though, I can tell. Expect him to look like a heartsick puppy when you do see him**

The texts both make Ezra feel better and worse. On the bright side, Mason isn’t dead. That being said, he apparently doesn’t want to talk to Ezra. He apparently doesn’t want to talk to anyone else either, but Ezra is currently feeling too self-centered to focus on that. And he stays self-centered until 5:15, when he gets a last minute break since Joey apparently “forgot” that Ezra is supposed to have one. He doesn’t feel like compiling a fast meal in the kitchen for a quick bite to eat. Instead, he goes outside and sits out on the brick ledge next to the steps outside. It’s times like these that he wishes that he smoked. He wouldn’t get strange glances from incoming customers for just sitting here and minding his own business. But he doesn’t give them any nasty looks. He just focuses on himself, tries to keep his mind clear by meditating, and does _not_ think of-

“Hey.”

Ezra looks up at the very familiar voice and immediately feels like his heart is about to burst at the mere sight of Mason’s face. He knows he should be preparing himself for some sort of friend breakup but for some reason, Ezra doesn’t think that’s going to happen, not with the way Mason is looking down at him tenderly, like he’s missed him. That alone makes Ezra feel a little better. But as soon as he gets past that, Ezra lets himself get a better look at his friend and frowns. Ezra always thinks that Mason is cute, adorable, beautiful, handsome, all of the above. That being said, Mason doesn’t look well, not today. He looks exhausted, the kind of exhausted you can only achieve from not getting a full night’s sleep multiple nights in a row. There is the slightest stubble, which looks nice on him but normally Mason stays very clean shaven. His eyes seem a bit bloodshot, which is worrying.

Something’s wrong. Something is off. While Ezra hopes that it isn’t about what happened between them, he is concerned regardless of what is bringing this on.

“I’m sorry if I uh…” Mason starts, then looks away, “I’m sorry if I left you hanging and didn’t text or call back. It wasn’t...It wasn’t anything you did. I just had some stuff going on and I...Anyway, I’m sorry if I worried you or pissed you off. That’s the last thing I want to do. I just...I just wanted to drop by and let you know that I’m alive-”

“You want to come in?” Ezra asks, cutting Mason off. 

Mason closes his mouth slowly and glances back at his car, “...Uh...I don’t know. I don’t look that great-”

“Bullshit,” Ezra says, shaking his head, “You’re beautiful. That’s already been established.”

Mason doesn’t meet his eyes at the words and just continues to look at his car. Ezra wars with himself at first - the pros and cons of what he wants to do - but like many things that Ezra wants to do, he just ends up doing it. Reaching out, Ezra takes Mason’s hand in his, causing Mason to finally divert his attention anywhere else other than trying to leave. 

“Please?” Ezra asks softly, rubbing his thumb over Mason’s knuckles, “I get off work in thirty minutes anyway. If you can hang out until then, I’ll bring our meals out after I clock out. We can go see a movie or something. Or watch one at my place. Whatever. I’ve missed you. I want to catch up and hear about what you’ve been up to the last few days.”

Mason shrugs, his eyes still on their hands, “I haven’t been up to anything.”

Ezra bites his lip, “...Then why didn’t you pick up the phone?”

“I was…” Mason starts, but then trails off and shakes his head, “I don’t know. I’m just...I’ve been really tired.”

“Are you sick?” Ezra asks, watching Mason for some sort of hint as to what’s going on.

Mason rubs his eyes with his free hand, “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Well…” Ezra says, giving Mason a once over, “You should at least eat before heading back. Will you eat with me? We don’t have to eat in the restaurant. We can get takeout and go over to Storrs Pond, have a picnic. If you still feel like going back to Tri-Kappa after, I won’t try to convince you otherwise. Pinky swear.”

It’s the first hint of a smile Ezra’s gotten out of Mason, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly as Ezra takes the hand he’s holding and links their pinkies together.

“Smooth,” Mason says, huffing out a breath only to look at Ezra fondly. 

“No backing out of the picnic now,” Ezra shrugs, then stands up, keeping Mason’s hand in his as he leads him towards the entrance to the restaurant, “I have to go and work a pointless handful of minutes until my shift is done. Wait for me at the bar.”

“I should probably wait in my car if I’m not going to get anything until you get off work,” Mason says gently but Ezra is already shaking his head at the suggestion.

“Everyone here knows you come to see me,” Ezra says, ushering Mason over to the front bar, “And to be completely honest, I don’t know if I trust you enough right now not to ghost me. That’s Willow’s job, not yours.”

“Did someone say my name?” Willow says behind him, causing Ezra to jump.

“Jesus Christ, when did you get here?” Ezra asks, turning around. Will shrugs her shoulders in her nonchalant and peppy way, causing her red curls to bounce. 

“I’ve been here,” she answers vaguely, “Tried to get your attention, but you were too obsessed with your own life or something. Didn’t even notice me. Hurtful, but I understand.”

“I would have seen you,” Ezra says, then turns back to look at Mason, “You see her, right?”

“I always do when you point her out,” Mason says as if he’s tired of answering that question. That’s fair. Ezra does ask it every time Willow and Mason are in the same room.

“Whatever, fine, she’s not a ghost,” Ezra says. But when he turns around again to admit his error in judgment to Willow’s face, she’s gone.

“Where the fuck did she go?” Ezra says, before he sees Linda behind the bar, “Hey, Linda! Do you know where Willow went?”

Linda gives him a strange look and tilts her head, “Who’s Willow?”

“See what I mean?” Ezra says, knocking the back of his fingers against Mason’s arm, “Alright, give me half an hour. I’ll put our favorites in for us so they’ll be ready by 8.”

\-----------------------------------

The picnic is quiet. There are background noises - children playing on the playground several yards away, geese quacking at each other and at one point chasing some preteen girl away from the pond. Okay, so it isn’t _quiet_. It’s loud and annoying. But it feels quiet because Mason is being quiet and Ezra doesn’t like quiet. Don’t get him wrong, comfortable silences are nice. He has those with Mason sometimes, usually when they drive around aimlessly late at night and neither of them are quite ready to part ways to go to bed. Those are always good silences. But right now, Ezra feels unsure of things and worried that he’s fucked everything up forever. It’s a good sign Mason went out of his way to see him in person. If Mason didn’t care, he wouldn’t have come. That’s what Ezra keeps telling himself. But maybe Mason is just really nice or maybe he’s courteous enough to break off their friendship in person. Ezra doesn’t know. He just knows Mason doesn’t seem like himself. He looks exhausted, he’s barely eating, and he’s barely talking. All of that usually stems from illness or anxiety over something. 

“I feel like a broken record asking this, but are you okay?” Ezra says, pushing his own food around in his container, “Like I said, I’ve been worried.”

Mason just stares at his food, not even pretending to eat it anymore, “...I’m not sleeping well.”

“How come?” Ezra asks, eyeing him for even a micro reaction.

But Mason just shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“Okay…” Ezra says, then lets out a sigh, “I’ve not been sleeping well either.”

Mason watches him for a moment, “Why haven’t you been sleeping well?”

Ezra gives him a look, “Because my best friend went AWOL and hasn’t talked to me at all since Sunday, despite several attempts on my end?”

Mason looks back down at his food, “I didn’t mean to ghost you. Or anyone else. I wasn’t trying to do that. I have some personal stuff going on and I just...Nevermind.”

“Please don’t do that,” Ezra says, leaning across the table slightly, “Don’t start talking only to say ‘Nevermind’. Talk to me. Please.”

Mason closes his eyes, “I’m fine. I promise. What movie were you wanting to see?”

Ezra looks at Mason sadly and sits back up straight since it’s clear he won’t get an answer from him right now, “Not any movie in particular. You have any suggestions?”

Mason seems to actually think on it, “...Have you seen Missing Words?”

Ezra is actually surprised by the suggestion, “No. I’ve been waiting for it to hit Netflix but nothing. I do know that it is supposed to be extremely good and extremely gay. Have you seen it?”

“I have it,” Mason says, “I had an FYE gift card and it was on the staff recommendation shelf. I really like it.”

Ezra nods and closes up his container since it’s clear that neither of them are actually going to eat much, “Let’s go pick it up and bring it back to my place then. It’s quieter than here or Tri-Kappa.”

Mason is surprisingly compliant as they head back to Tri-Kappa to get the movie. He doesn’t change his mind or act hesitant to go back to Ezra’s apartment. Ezra feels like those are all good signs. He hopes that they are. Maybe they WILL be okay. Maybe what happened before will never happen again and no other lines will be crossed, but Ezra can probably deal with that if it means he and Mason stay close friends. He might want more but he can accept if that’s something Mason doesn’t want and will never want. It’s not unheard of to experiment a little only to continue being straight. While Ezra doesn’t exactly like the idea of being Mason’s experiment, he can move past it. He can. 

Although it’s different when they get back to his apartment and put the movie on. Ezra is able to focus on the movie. Ezra had been right about it. It is extremely good and extremely gay. But there’s a distance between him and Mason that’s distracting. Even more distractingly, Mason looks like he’s seconds from nodding off. It makes Ezra aware of his own exhaustion - his exhaustion from working, his exhaustion from obsessively thinking about what happened after the party. He makes it through the movie though and so does Mason. Ezra opts to turn on the TV instead. The first thing that comes on screen is some random episode of SVU and Ezra just keeps it on. The episode is disturbing - then again, many of them are. Ezra would know. He went to New York for a couple of weeks during winter break and guest starred as a misogynistic mass shooter for the two part finale. Ezra hadn’t even been sure how they had gotten his reel. When they contacted him, he thought it had been a joke. While he’s been a SAG member for a while, he had been in between agents after what Howard pulled. It wasn’t until he found out that the director of the movie he had worked on that fall booked the director gig for both parts of that finale and he connected the dots from there. When Deirdre and Hallie held watch parties for each episode at the beginning of May, Mason had come. He sat next to Ezra and watched it without any problems. He even brought Ezra flowers. Ezra may have one of those flowers pressed in a book. He’ll never tell. 

But tonight? Tonight, Mason does have a problem. He doesn’t say anything at first as the charismatic and successful family friend denies that he molested his childhood bestie’s fourteen year old daughter, but Ezra can sense something in the atmosphere shift as the episode progresses. Mason starts to look increasingly uncomfortable and Ezra wants to question him on it - he does - but things are still awkward and he really doesn’t want to hear that Mason’s discomfort is because of him. He wars with himself for a solid ten minutes on whether to ask him what is wrong but before he can, Mason grabs the remote.

“I can’t watch this,” Mason mutters, turning the station to The Weather Channel of all things. However, the mundane and unsurprising weekly forecast seems to leave Mason feeling satisfied. 

“Ah, yes,” Ezra says, nodding, “This is much better. So much more compelling.”

“Mhmm,” Mason hums, seeming strangely shaken up but better than before.

“But despite its intensity, I doubt it will keep you up,” Ezra says softly, “You could barely keep your eyes open during the movie. You look exhausted. Do you want to take a nap? This will put you right to sleep.”

Mason shakes his head, his eyelids getting heavy, “I’m fine.”

Ezra huffs and lies back, his head on the middle cushion and his legs dangling off the arm of the couch, “Whatever. I’ll take a nap then, especially if you’re so set on watching The Weather Channel.”

Mason looks down at him in the closest thing Ezra has seen to amusement all day, “You will be sore if you sleep like that, even if it is just for an hour.”

Ezra shrugs and shuts his eyes, “That sounds like a problem for future Ezra. Current Ezra has never given him much thought.”

“Uh huh,” Ezra hears Mason acknowledge before it’s quiet for a solid minute. The only sounds in the apartment are The Weather Channel on low and the occasional sounds of breathing from the both of them. Mason had been right though. The position he’s in now isn’t the most comfortable. He tries not to make Mason aware of that though, partially out of pride and partially because he doesn’t want Mason to move over to the loveseat. Mason already feels far enough away and even though the distance might help him get over his lovesickness in the long run. 

But as Ezra’s eyes continue to stay closed, Mason seems to have a different idea - a different idea other than moving farther away or convincing Ezra to go lie down in bed. Ezra begins to feel Mason’s fingers run through his hair in such a soothing way, slowly and gently. Ezra wants to lean his head back and encourage it, but he isn’t sure where Mason is coming from. Maybe it’s because the whole situation takes him off guard, but instead of just letting it happen like someone in their right mind would do, Ezra turns his head upwards, opens his eyes, and looks at Mason directly. As soon as Mason sees Ezra looking at him, he yanks his hand back and looks a combination of embarrassed, ashamed, and guilty. 

“I don’t…” Mason starts, running his other hand down his face, “I’m sorry. That was stupid.”

Ezra turns on his stomach and lifts his head, “No, it wasn’t. It felt nice. I liked it. Why’d you stop?”

Mason doesn’t answer that. He looks like he’s physically incapable of answering the question. Ezra’s not sure if the lack of response is fueling him since he wants some sort of clue or if he just really wants what he’s about to do, but he inches closer to Mason until his head is hovering over Mason’s lap. Normally, this would probably indicate something dirtier than what Ezra is actually about to do but his mind actually isn’t in the gutter when it comes to Mason - not at the moment, at least. Tonight, he just wants the feeling Mason just gave him.

Mason seems to understand what he wants, surprisingly. When Ezra begins to lower his head, Mason puts a hand on the back of his it and helps him get situated before letting Ezra use his lap as a pillow. He continues running his fingers through Ezra’s hair with his left hand, then let’s Ezra take his right. They don’t exactly hold hands, but Ezra lets his fingers lock with Mason’s off and on. He becomes fixated on the sight and it’s the last thing he sees before he falls asleep. 

Two hours later, Ezra wakes up to the sound of the apartment door opening and feels relief when he sits up and sees it’s only Hallie. It isn’t that he doesn’t love Deirdre, but he knows she would be asking question after question, all while Hallie just says, “Oh, good. Maybe you’ll stop pouting now” before going to her room. When Ezra looks at Mason and sees that he’s asleep with his head slouched against his shoulder, Ezra softly touches Mason’s cheek and strokes the stubble on it until he wakes up.

“Hey,” Ezra says, not ready to put his hand down quite yet, “You want to go sleep in my bed? I can sleep out here, if you want. You should get a decent night’s sleep. A thank you for letting me use you as a pillow.”

“Um…” Mason starts, then tilts his head to the side as if he’s leaning into Ezra’s touch but maybe Ezra is imagining all of that, “...I can sleep out here. Thanks though.”

Shit. That’s not the answer he wanted. The most ideal answer would have been, “You don’t have to sleep on the couch. Your bed is big enough for two people.” However, Ezra would have accepted, “Thanks, man. Night.” He supposes he should be grateful Mason isn’t demanding to be taken back to Tri-Kappa.

“You sure?” Ezra asks, “You said you haven’t been sleeping well. I really don’t mind.”

Mason shrugs and definitely leans into Ezra’s touch this time, “I’ll be okay. Go get some sleep.”

Ezra lets himself caress Mason’s face - only for a moment - before letting it fall to his side and saying goodnight. 

\---------------------

At 7 am, Mason wakes up with a scream stuck in his throat and almost falls off the couch when he shoots up into a sitting position. He doesn’t even register it’s Ezra jumping back in alarm until the fog clears a little more. Mason covers his face with his hands and takes deep breaths to try to calm down quickly so that Ezra doesn’t think he is a hot mess. He doesn’t want Ezra asking about this. Mason knows if Ezra pries enough, he’ll probably get something out of him.

“Mason?” Ezra asks softly, “Hey, are you okay?”

No. Mason isn’t okay. He’s fucked up in the head, some weeks more than others. He can’t say that, but lying and telling Ezra he’s fine seems ridiculous.

“You were panicking in your sleep,” Ezra says and when Mason takes a peek, he can see Ezra is a little bit closer now, “I couldn’t get you to wake up at first.”

Ezra’s hand hovers over his shoulder before he seems to second guess himself and lets it drop to his side, as if he has a feeling Mason doesn’t want to be touched right now. Usually, Ezra would be right. But Mason actually really does want the comfort - from Ezra and Ezra only. That being said, if Ezra did touch him or hold him, Mason would probably fucking lose it. He already did that while he was drunk and it wasn’t even about this. 

“I’m fine,” Mason chokes out, then forces himself to get to his feet, “I should get back to Tri-Kappa. You probably have stuff to do.”

“Um…” Ezra starts, still looking at Mason with concern, “I have to teach that workshop in a couple of hours but I have the rest of the day off. If you want to hang out here and relax, you can. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Mason shakes his head, “I’ll just go with you. If you’re able to drop me off, I’d appreciate it.”

Ezra looks at him, seeming even more concerned, “Well, yeah, I can drop you off. Do you want to do something after?”

“I don’t know,” Mason says, walking towards the bathroom to brush his teeth, “I’ll text you if I do.”

He already knows he won’t. Not today. He knows himself well enough to know that as soon as he gets to his room, he’s going to stay there and shut everyone out, Ezra included.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


	8. Late June 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra starts to gain an understanding of what's been going on with Mason, but still has a long way to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Touches upon PTSD flashbacks regarding a previous sexual assault.

It almost feels like a chore to head back to the Tri-Kappa house. He hadn't even been gone long. He just went out to get some coffee before realizing he is too exhausted for it to even help. 

The dreams won't stop. It's been a week since he had the one in the car. Except for that night - the one he spent in Ezra’s arms - he has had multiple nightmares every time he shuts his eyes. He doesn't know if that one night of dreamless sleep was from the alcohol, the weed, or from Ezra's presence himself. He did try drinking two nights ago. It didn't help. He's been dealing though. He knows he gave himself a couple of days away from people, but forced himself to at least go through a few of the motions. If he's not up for an invite somewhere, he just says he's tired or - to Ezra - writing. And he has written. That’s not a lie. But Ezra is hard to say no to, especially when all Mason wants to do is spend time with him. He can’t though, because Ezra already keeps asking him if something is going on. Ezra would be able to see through Mason if he lied too much. He already saw through it on Thursday morning when Ezra had woken him up on the couch from a nightmare.

At least Mason's workload is a lot lighter now that his summer class is officially over. He still works in the Prospective Students Office part-time - nowhere near the amount of time Ezra dedicates to his jobs. He may have called out sick earlier in the week, which he has never done before but they were understanding enough and he did go into work for his shift on Friday. It probably helped ground him a bit, but he's even going to have a break from that starting next week until the end of August and he will have nothing to do. He should probably go home and see his dad. It might get his mind off of things. But if he goes home to see his dad, he knows his mom will somehow find out he's in town and feel the obligation to attempt to take him out to lunch, if not force him to come over to interact with her new boyfriend and his kid. His mother is apparently crazy about her. 

He should call his dad. Check in. His mother has a new family. Dad doesn't really have anyone. And Mason really needs to hear his dad's voice right now. It's been a while. His dad has barely tried to reach out and it is starting to make Mason feel sick and really unwanted, even though that's probably stupid.

The phone rings a few times and at first Mason thinks his father isn't going to respond. It wouldn't be the first time in the past few months. It makes Mason worry, but he knows his dad is busy. Mason knows it probably isn't about him and the fact that his dad only adopted him because he married his mother. Even if the fact is just that - a fact - he knows that Craig Taylor cares. He wouldn't be paying for his college still, unless he's planning on waiting until the end of the summer to cut ties. But Mason feels like it is probably because he's busy, not because he's trying to separate from Mason too. The real possibility of him being busy keeps Mason from expressing any concerns to him, just like the fear of bringing those concerns up only to be proven right keeps his mouth shut. 

But his dad does pick up. And when he does? The concerns rush back for a different reason. 

His dad sounds fucking dead inside. How Mason can hear that over the phone, he doesn't know. He just senses something is wrong. 

"What's wrong?" Mason asks immediately, right after his dad says hello, "Is everything okay?"

His dad takes too long to answer, breathing on the line before he says, "Everything is fine, kid. Just fine."

"You sound off," Mason presses. 

"Uh...yeah," his dad says, letting out a huff, "Broke my arm pretty badly. Not feeling the best."

"What?" Mason says, frowning, "How did you break your arm? When?"

"I fell off the roof a couple of weeks ago," his dad says, sounding dismissive, "The rain gutter was broken. Thought I could fix it myself. I was right, but the ladder fell backwards while I was on it. I'll be alright-"

"Do you want me to come down?" Mason interrupts, "Do you need help?"

"Um…" his dad starts and Mason's heart feels like it has dropped down to his stomach when his dad sounds like he's seconds away from bursting into tears.

"I can be there by tonight-"

"No," his dad quickly interjects, sniffling just a little before clearing his throat, "I'm okay. I'm fine. You um...You going on any trips with Tri-Kappa this summer?"

"Uh, no," Mason says, even though he was literally just invited to Barcelona last night and said he'd think about it, "I don't think I am going on the end of summer trip they're planning. I might do something with my friends. Friends I have outside of the frat."

"Oh yeah?" his dad says, honestly sounding like he's reading a script and Mason doesn't know what to think, "Which friends?"

What is Mason supposed to say? His queer identifying friends? The friends that literally threw a surprise party for him a couple of weeks ago to thank him for getting Ezra's LGBTQ themed play approved and funded? They had put a feathered boa around his neck and a dollar store princess crown on his head, all while they chanted "Ally King" as Ezra kissed him on the cheek. The feelings that stem from _that_ aren't really coming solely from an "ally" place, let alone what he and Ezra had done later. Is he supposed to talk about that with his homophobic dad? Tell him that he’s most likely not straight and is obsessed with a guy who doesn’t feel way? _A lot wilder things have been done while drunk and high._ That’s all it was to Ezra, something a little out there but nothing that bothered him one way or another. 

But then there's what happened a few nights ago. It hadn’t been anything sexual, but it had given Mason some hope.He had given into an urge just to touch Ezra, to show him some affection. And instead of telling him to stop or laughing at him, said he liked Mason combing his fingers through his hair. And then when Ezra got closer and laid his head in Mason’s lap, their hands occasionally intertwined on and off until they both fell asleep on the couch - the only other instance in the past week that Mason hadn’t had a nightmare of any sort, now that he thinks of it. It had felt way better than any of the times he had cuddled with a girl. Maybe it's because Ezra cares for him deeply and he is a safe person for Mason. But in the moment, he felt like he was-

Mason forces THOSE thoughts to come to a halt and redirects his focus back to his dad. There is a slight possibility that Mason is just really confused and isn't actually falling for his best friend. Those psychic readings made things a lot more confusing than they already were. Maybe he is just feeling this way because he's never had a best friend before. He also hasn't been with anyone in a romantic or sexual capacity for a while. He’s had the opportunity, but declined every single time. Most probably would have been one night stands. He doesn’t like one night stands. He had one once and he thought about Ezra the whole time. The closest thing he has had to sex recently had been when he and Ezra jerked off together and kissed each other’s necks. 

Jesus Christ.

"Just some newer friends," Mason says, trying to clear his head, "I enjoy hanging out with them. I'm really close to one of them. He's been a good friend to me. Extremely supportive and kind."

"Okay. Okay, that's good," Dad says, his voice sounding strained, "I'm glad you have friends up there who are looking out for you. I'm uh...I should get off the phone. Do you need money or anything?"

"I'm okay," Mason says quietly, "Are you sure you don't need me to come down?"

Another pause on the line, a longer one this time, before his dad suddenly speaks again.

"...I'm fine," his dad finally says, "I'll talk to you later. Have fun with your friends...I love you."

Mason swallows the unexpected lump in his throat. It's not like his dad has NEVER said it to him. But it's rare and usually precedented. Him saying it casually is pretty rare. Mason hasn't achieved anything phenomenal recently, unless securing funding for a play counts, but he's not going to tell his dad about that. He finished the rough draft of his novel, but he isn't going to tell his dad about that either. He hasn't even told Ezra and Ezra is the only person he wants to tell.

But before Mason can say he loves him too, his father hangs up. 

Mason looks around his bedroom and it doesn't feel welcoming, nor does it feel all that comfortable. It's a room he doesn't want to be in at all right now. If Zane were here, maybe it would be slightly better, but Zane isn't here. Mason is alone and he suddenly feels that isolation creeping into his bones again, but now it is ten times worse. He has been trying to convince himself that he is wanted at home. Needed. Dad said he loves him. It hadn't sounded like a lie. But he hadn't wanted Mason there. If Mason just shows up, he feels like he would be unwelcome. Maybe the divorce is making his dad feel differently about him. Maybe the reason he sometimes doesn't answer Mason is because he doesn't see as much of a point to talk to him anymore. As for Mason's mom, he is upset with her, trying to keep his distance. But she doesn't seem to hate it. She seems perfectly happy without him. He isn't needed by either his mom or his dad. His dad sounded upset but maybe it had been pain from his broken arm or guilt over not wanting to talk to Mason anymore. 

He doesn't know why today of all days he is having a crisis over absolutely everything. But he's doubting the love that his whole entire fucking family has for him because of one fucking phone call pushing his already iffy self over the edge. But that's apparently what happens when he holds shit in for months and when he probably pushes one parent too hard and doesn't even bother with the other. As for his biological father, Mason doesn't like to think about him, but it's hard not to when he has been dreaming about the last time he saw him and last night's dreams had been the worst he has had in years. It's part of the reason he is so exhausted right now. The only time Mason had ever bonded with Jake Farkas had been when he was fifteen. He had started out curious (and possibly slightly rebellious when it came to being so keen to bond with the man, despite his parents' feelings on it) and ended up being regretful and traumatized. He tries not to be. He tries not to think of that night. But it's hard for Mason to forget Jake and his friend holding him at gunpoint for their own amusement. It's harder to forget what Jake's friend had done to him, how Jake and his friend treated it like a joke. Mason hadn't thought it was a joke. He hadn't thought it was funny. He had hid his face and cried until snot was coming out of his nose and he had the opportunity to run and lock himself up in the bathroom, wash his face until it was red, and call Molly to beg her to come get him and not say anything to Dad. When Molly and Hazel had gotten there and told him to get in the car, he had downplayed it. He said that the two men had just been fucking around with guns and hard drugs and he had gotten scared. The only reason he hadn't said anything about the threats and what the friend had done had been because Mason had known Molly wouldn't keep that quiet. She might have if it had happened to her, but not with it happening to Mason. She would have told their dad and his mom, or she would have told her mom and Jennifer would tell their dad. The last thing Mason had wanted was for his dad to learn about what he had done.

Up until that psychic brought up Jake, he hasn't thought about what happened back then in at least a few months, not in detail. Probably since before he met Ezra. He forced the thoughts down when Ezra’s ex-agent approached them and Mason found out what happened. He can usually do that, push them down. Before, he couldn’t. Before, he used to have panic attacks. His mother was convinced he was overwhelmed with school and lacrosse. Not the worst guess, since he would try to refuse to get out of bed for months after it happened. His dad actually thought it might be because of Jake. It had both surprised and terrified Mason. But his dad thought it came down to feeling abandoned after Jake never reached out again. His dad was wrong. Mason never wanted to see Jake again. He still doesn't. 

Back then, to get over the worst of it, he would write about similar scenarios. He would write some truly fucked up shit so his brain could at least try to work through what had happened, even though worse could have happened. A LOT worse. He could have not made a run for the bathroom. He could have been forced to experience a lot worse. Thank fucking god his parents never found any of the stuff he had written, but especially _that_ stuff. They probably would have thought the worst DID happen.

Maybe he should write now. Maybe that would help him redirect his mind or come to terms with at least some of the stuff he’s been thinking about all morning. But as soon as he thinks it, it doesn't seem like the right thing to do. He pretty much only writes when he's alone. If he is with people, he is just in a crowd and has a table to himself. 

But he is alone, so it would be as good of a time as any. But he doesn't want to be alone. He wants Ezra with him. 

It's probably a weird and selfish thought to have but it's far from an uncommon one. But if he seeks him out now, Mason might scare him off. He's not an actor like Ezra. He's not going be able to hide that his mind is fucking up all of his shit today, taking advantage of the fact that Mason doesn't have much to do to distract him. He'll come off as clingy, if he hasn't already. He probably has. If Mason calls Ezra now, Ezra will probably be as annoyed as his dad had been. Ezra will probably end up pushing him away due to that annoyance. He will do the same as what Mason's family is likely doing. 

It's still morning and while there is a coffee in his hand, he's only had a few sips. Maybe he can just sleep off whatever the fuck his mind is forcing him to think and overanalyze. He would rather be near Ezra - even if that just meant sitting in a booth in Ezra's section for a while just to calm down, get out of his own head, and not feel so alone, but he isn't going to do that. He can't. He is a fucking annoyance at his best and a joke at his worst and he would rather Ezra not catch onto that right now. 

\-----------------------

Ezra used to hate Sunday doubles. They were literally the bane of his existence. The mornings are filled with the church lady crowd - usually a toss up between tips. He'd either hit the jackpot with the sweet grandmas by making them feel special and beautiful, leading them to leave him twenty dollar bills left and right. But on the other side of the spectrum, there are the church ladies who either aren't grandmothers or are the least favorite grandmas that their grandchildren have. They just leave him a handful of change scattered across the table. 

1 pm to 3 pm tends to attract the frat crowds, the ones who couldn't bring themselves to wake up any earlier and are seeking greasy hangover food. They aren't actually that bad. They're usually too sick to be obnoxious and the ones that manage to be obnoxious? Ezra can deal with them, although a man can only deal with so many tips underneath upside-down water glasses. 

3 pm to 5 pm tends to be relatively calm since it is just a little too early for dinner and a little too late for the frat boys to make an attempt to get on with their day. Mason tends to come over around this time on Sundays. It has been a regular thing for him to do. He comes on other days too, but Ezra has the biggest shot to actually talk to him on a Sunday. Mason is the reason why Sundays aren't so bad anymore. It's the reason why he looks forward to the shift sometimes.

But even as 4:15 hits, Mason doesn't show up. It causes an ache of concern, one that he's been feeling on and off since the party. Mason hasn't been as engaged recently. Ezra still doesn't know if he feels uncomfortable after what they heard in Massachusetts or if he's uncomfortable or embarrassed by what happened after. They have hung out once since and Mason did spend the night. That being said, Mason has only given Ezra minimal answers to any texts he has sent, barely answers the phone, and has had excuses not to see him.

Ezra knows he sounds paranoid. He knows he sounds needy and clingy. They hung out five days ago. It isn’t like it’s been a month. But Mason always comes here on Sundays. He knows he shouldn't expect Mason to spend his days sitting around a restaurant, but it isn't like Ezra asks him to. Ezra just knows can usually expect Mason at least two days a week - one of those days always being today. Mason often comes alone but sometimes he will come with their growing number of mutual friends. 

So when Yas, Zane, Pedro, Charmaine, and Frankie show up and there is no Mason with them? It makes him feel even more concerned. He tries not to ask at first. It isn't really his business where Mason may be, even though it feels like it is his business. He and Mason are at a point where they hang out way more often than when they don't - at least until this past week. Mason is the first person he calls if he's stressed out or upset. A lot of the time, Ezra doesn't get into what's going on, but hearing Mason's voice helps and Mason seems to catch on that Ezra is feeling a certain way, enough to drop what he's doing to be with Ezra in person. 

He doesn't know what Mason is thinking when it comes to their more physically affectionate interactions. Maybe Mason is literally the least toxic straight guy in the world and has no qualms about seeking out physical affection with another guy. It's not the norm at all - even though it should be - but it could be the case. Ezra has never had issues with showing physical affection platonically. However, deep down he knows what he is doing with Mason - what he's feeling for Mason - is not platonic. Not on Ezra's end. The feelings have been building up since the night they met and the hug they shared in the courtyard a month ago had released something that is impossible to lock back up. The trip, the party, the drunken kisses, masturbating together, and every interaction after have all just made his feelings irreversible. It’s just really going to suck if Mason isn't interested at all. Maybe he isn't. Maybe that's why Ezra has seen less and less of him since the party.

But Mason continues to be responsive to his touch, at least he was on Wednesday. Mason even initiated by touching his hair on the couch. Maybe Ezra won't need to lock all of it back up and bury all of the overwhelming feelings that he's trying to sort out. He just knows he can't lose Mason as a friend. He told Mason that before what happened...well, happened. They may have been extremely inebriated at the time, but it had been the most sound thing he said that entire night. Losing Mason as a friend would hurt worse than any of the shit Tyler pulled. Losing Mason isn’t worth pushing for a potential relationship. That's why he isn't letting himself hope.

To maintain the friendship and to not overstep any boundaries, Ezra tries not to ask about Mason at first. He waits on his friends, jokes around and chats when he can, and appreciates their presence. If he asks too quickly, it will just fuel the rumors already developing in their shared friend circle as well as their individual ones.

So he waits. He even goes back to the kitchen to text Mason and ask if he's feeling okay or if their friends are just thoughtless bitches who didn't include him. But he doesn't get a response back. It doesn't even get read an hour later. 

"Hey…uh," Ezra starts, glancing down at his friends as he gathers their plates, "Have you guys heard from Mason? He usually comes by on Sunday afternoons."

"Oh, sweetie, are we not good enough?" Charmaine asks teasingly. Ezra can't be sure, but he thinks that Yas just kicked Charmaine under the booth to shut them up. 

"Yeah..." Zane says slowly, the guy Ezra should have asked in the first place, considering Zane is the one who gave Ezra a heads up that Mason wasn’t returning anyone’s texts or calls on Wednesday.

"Yeah, what?" Ezra presses.

Zane shrugs, "I think he might be getting sick or something. He didn't sleep well last night and kept waking up. He wasn't in the best mood this morning. He barely talked to me when I went back to the room this afternoon. He sounded stuffy and didn't want to get out of bed. I asked if he was sick, told him getting out of the room might make him feel a little better. He didn't answer me. He just wanted to sleep. He really didn't sound good."

"What was wrong with him?" Ezra presses, abandoning the initial attempt to be nonchalant, "Did he have a fever, a headache, was he nauseated-"

"I'm not his doctor, dude," Zane says, then gives Ezra the tiniest once over, "Or his boyfriend. If he's sick, he's sick. I wouldn't be surprised if he isn't though. I was just telling Yas on the way here that I think he's getting into one of his dark moods again." 

Ezra blinks, "What do you mean? What dark moods?" 

Zane shrugs, "I don't know. He just gets depressed or something. Happened occasionally before. He got _really_ bad in November and then got better. It started happening a little more again in January but he chilled out by March. I don’t know why he’s getting like this now. I thought it might be becoming a problem last week, which is why I came to check on him. Now it seems like he's hitting like the peak of it. He wouldn't talk to me or Yas at all today. Wouldn't even get out of bed."

Ezra feels a sinking feeling in his chest at Zane’s words and tries not to bombard Zane with more questions. Honestly, Ezra is surprised that Zane observed and retained as much as he had regarding Mason’s alleged ‘dark moods’. 

"I told you to stay back with him and try to get him to talk to you, Zane. He's been canceling on everyone, but he can't avoid you when you share a room with him," Yas says, stating the obvious, "You've known him the longest. Whatever he is going through could be really fucking serious if you - of all people - are noticing that he might be struggling mentally."

Zane scoffs, "Most days, he's fine! It's still just occasionally. He'll snap out of it in a day or two if there is anything for him to snap out of. Like I said, he might actually be sick. You heard him. He sounded stuffy."

"He could have been crying!" Yas argues back, "What if he was and we just ignored him and left? How the fuck is that supposed to make him feel? You should have stayed back and talked to him one on one."

Zane throws his hands up, "Why am I the bad guy here? I literally just answered Ezra's question. That's it." 

"Because you should have figured out if what was happening to him was physical or mental!" Yas says, "Either way, he deserved support."

Honestly, Ezra isn't mad at Zane. He's too busy feeling stressed over Mason to feel mad at Zane in particular, even though Ezra agrees with Yas. Mason fucking deserves support and care if there is something going on, regardless of what it is. 

Maybe it's because Ezra feels slightly insane with worry or maybe it's because his feelings for Mason are well way past what they should be, but without giving his body full permission, Ezra puts the stack of plates back down on the table.

"I can't stay here. I'm leaving," Ezra says, before walking away and towards the kitchen. He ignores the reminders from his friends to take his tip. 

He dons a slight stagger as he gets through the kitchen doors and leans against the counter, holding his stomach as he does so. It catches his boss's attention pretty quickly as she turns her head sharply to stare at him.

"What's the matter with you?" Molly asks, getting straight to the point as she approaches him, only to step back when Ezra doubles over.

"I just threw up in the bathroom," he rasps out, "My stomach is killing me. I don't know what's wrong. I just need to take a break and then I will get the food over to-" 

"No," Molly cuts in quickly, ushering him out of the kitchen,"No no no no no. You're leaving. Oscar, pack Ezra a quart of chicken noodle! Come back when you are symptom free for forty-eight hours."

"But my section," he half-heartedly argues, not really wanting to put in too much fake effort to stick around. He just wants to fucking leave.

"Your section will be fine," Molly says insistently as Oscar hands him a large container of soup, "The hostess can help out."

"Willow?" Ezra asks, beginning to straighten up his posture as he gets to the door. 

Molly squints in confusion, "Who is Willow? Ethel is hosting. You know this."

Ezra did see Ethel. But he also saw Willow. Proves his ghost theory even more.

"Yeah," Molly says slowly, as if her point is also proven, "Go home. Feel better. Keep me updated on how you're feeling."

"Thanks, Molly," Ezra says, keeping up the act until Molly is back inside and Ezra is in his car. He had been thinking about stopping to pick up some soup at Panera for Mason in case he is legitimately sick, but Ezra doesn't have to do that anymore. 

He heads straight for Tri-Kappa.

\-------------------

Mason sleeps on and off for most of the day. When he's awake for too long, his mind starts up again. Most of it is the same shit as before, but some of it is pretty self-loathing stuff. Zane and Yas catch him during a particularly bad time when they walk into the room and wake Mason up, ripping him out of a nightmare. Mason stays under the covers while they're in the room, hoping they won't press him to show his face. The sniffles are probably revealing and embarrassing enough.

The whole nightmare bullshit sucks because Mason has taken enough psych classes to know why it's happening. It's unacknowledged trauma, which causes a retroactive response even though the event in question happened almost five years ago. It isn't quite a textbook case. Mason has acknowledged the event in the sense that he remembers it. He isn't unconsciously burying the memory and repressing it. All of the burying and repressing is very purposeful. He can go months without thinking about it and then one day he starts perseverating on it out of nowhere, like today. It likely stems from not talking it out with someone or even telling a soul, thus not fucking dealing with it. He’s more than functioning though. He just has to get through days like today, where it’s that memory, plus his parents’ divorce, plus worry over his dad regretting adopting him and his mom wanting to just move past the kid she popped out in high school. 

His mother is turning 37 in November. She’s still young. He’s upset with her for what she did to Dad, just dumping his ass after he basically saved them from being on the streets. But Dad is twenty years older than Mom. Mom’s boyfriend is a 42 year old widower. With Dad apparently not being able to keep his shit together and Mason always being a reminder of a harder time, he’s not surprised she wants to move on. It’s good that Jake has moved on from Mason. He tried to enter Mason’s life once and only lasted a short stint before causing Mason to have more problems than he already has. 

He fucking hates everything. If he felt like getting out of bed, he would ask one of the guys to buy a bottle of liquor off of them and try drinking the dreams away again, even though that hadn't worked Friday night. Instead, he just tries to go back to sleep sober. It almost works. He’s drifting in and out when there’s a knock on the door. It disturbs Mason’s process, but not enough to get up and answer it. As far as Tri-Kappa goes, Mason isn’t here. So he ignores the knocking a few more times, throwing his comforter over his head and focusing on the noise of the air conditioner instead. Mason focuses on the sound of it so intensely that he doesn’t even hear the door open or close, let alone someone walk towards his bed.

“Zane said you might be sick,” he hears Ezra’s voice say nearby, causing him to slowly lower the comforter back down, “I was worried. I came by to bring you some soup and see how you’re feeling.”

Mason’s eyes squint when Ezra opens the blackout curtain, letting the sun in. It can’t be past 6 pm. Mason had been thinking it was around midnight. 

“You okay?” Ezra asks softly, making his way over to Mason’s bedside, only to kneel down on the floor and run his fingers through Mason’s hair. He wants to lean into the touch. It’s so kind and caring and he doesn’t think anyone has ever touched him like this, not even his parents. But Ezra shouldn’t have gone out of his way for him. He had been avoiding worrying or annoying Ezra. Mason had forced himself not to go to Molly’s and aggravate him, but now Ezra has gone out of his way to come here, brought soup and everything. That’s probably a lot more frustrating than Mason just showing up. 

Before Mason can dwell more on it, Ezra gently lifts up Mason’s head - no more than a couple of inches - before he presses his cheek against Mason’s forehead. The gesture is sweet and loving and Mason has to force himself to breathe as Ezra gives him skin to skin contact before meeting his eyes again.

“You don’t feel fevered,” Ezra says, keeping a hand on Mason’s forehead for good measure, “What’s going on?”

Mason doesn’t even know what to say. Whenever he’s had a day like this and someone has likely noticed, they never really question him. They don’t bring him soup or press their cheek against his forehead or make Mason feel calmer by caressing his scalp. His father had never been one to be touchy feely and he only remembers his mother hugging him for more than a second when he moved away for college and when her boyfriend had thrown Mason down the stairs. She had held him for a long time then, practically wailing over how sorry she was. But now? Now, they don’t care and Mason has learned to accept that, except apparently he hasn’t since today he has been hyperfocusing on none of his family caring about him at all. 

“You don’t have to talk,” Ezra says after only receiving silence in response, “You want to scoot over? I just got off work. I’m tired too.”

Zane’s empty bed obviously doesn’t exist to Ezra but Ezra doesn’t seem all that tired anyway. He’s looking down at Mason with tender eyes and it makes it so Mason can’t deny him. He doesn’t want to, regardless of what happens. So he finds himself scooting over, enough so that Ezra can get under the covers too. Ezra shifts beneath them and lies down on his back before turning his head to meet Mason’s eyes. Mason feels his throat go dry as he lies down on his side, facing Ezra as their eyes lock in a stare. Ezra extends his right arm, right over Mason’s head, as if he’s inviting him to come closer. Is he? Why would he?

“Only if you want to,” Ezra says, as if he is sensing Mason’s hesitation. It’s enough to tell Mason he isn’t misreading the gesture. It’s enough for Mason to have an excuse to do it. 

Mason moves over slowly, probably comedically so. His great-aunt who passed when he was twelve had a dog that had been terrified of thunderstorms. She was easily sixty pounds, but when it started pouring, the dog would instantly get nervous, find the person she trusted the most, and climb slowly and carefully into their lap. It had been as if she thought if she did it gently enough, the person in question wouldn’t notice. Once she successfully made it onto their lap and wasn’t shooed off, she would instantly look relieved. It had been as if she finally knew she was safe, cared for, and loved. 

It may sound stupid, but he feels like that dog right now. Because as soon as Mason’s head is tucked into the crook of Ezra’s neck and he’s flush against Ezra’s side? That’s pretty much what Mason feels.

“You’re going to be okay,” Ezra whispers, his arms wrapping around Mason firmly. Mason lets out a hitched breath and wraps an arm around Ezra’s chest to return the embrace. He doesn’t know why he’s fucking like this. It doesn’t happen often. He doesn’t want Ezra to see him like this but he doesn’t want him to leave because he wants Ezra here more than he wants anyone else here and he doesn’t want to be alone. It’s fucking embarrassing though. It’s really fucking embarrassing. Ezra has bigger problems than he does, some Mason knows about and some Ezra has yet to elaborate on. He knows Ezra stresses about money, about being discriminated against due to his finances at a prestigious school. He knows that Ezra loves his parents deeply but barely gets to see them because he can’t shell out money on frequent plane tickets and his parents are too poor to come see him much. He knows there is something going on with Ezra’s uncle, something serious, and that Ezra really avoids talking about his cousin and aunt. He probably thinks Mason is being dramatic or ridiculous. He probably thinks this is some delayed response to the divorce. It might be, but it also isn’t. It’s also about his parents likely moving on from him, barely talking to his sister anymore, and that fucking thing that happened Thanksgiving of 2009. 

His mother loves Thanksgiving. Fucking loves it. It tends to fall around her birthday so she always does something big. Mason had skipped her dinner that year out of teenaged spite. He never enjoyed it much but it was more about pissing off his mom rather than hating the holiday itself. He went to Jake’s house because he had been invited and Jake had taken him to hockey games and out to eat a few times before that night and seemed like he was really trying. But that night had been different. Mason supposes he should be grateful that Jake hadn’t done the shit his friend had done. That would have been more traumatic, to have his biological father do something like that. But Mason can’t even remember the friend’s _name_. They had gotten him drunk and he honestly doesn’t remember much except being terrified and disgusted, not being sure to be more afraid of the gun being held to his head or the-

“Hey,” Ezra says gently, rubbing Mason’s back when Mason realizes there are tears dripping down his face and onto Ezra’s neck, “What’s going on in your head? I’m really worried about you. I have been for a week.”

Mason takes a moment to answer, to try to think about what to say. His logic and his emotions are warring against each other. He knows, logically, Ezra isn’t going to think less of him if Mason finally gives in and finally says what happened back then out loud. He knows that. But on the other hand, what if Ezra doesn’t take it seriously? What if he dismisses it? It wasn’t like he was raped. It didn’t even happen recently. What if Ezra doesn’t dismiss what happened but is disgusted by it? It’s stupid. The thoughts are so fucking stupid. He knows if it were the other way around, he wouldn’t think less of Ezra at all. The thought of Ezra getting hurt, even if it would have happened years ago, would piss him the fuck off. It had been the same with Molly when she visited last year and told him Seth attacked her, attempted to rape her, and she ended up in the hospital. He hadn’t thought less of her. He was never disgusted. He was enraged with Seth and upset that Molly didn’t say anything to him when it actually happened, but he would have never thought of not taking what happened to her seriously.

But despite all of that, the emotions win out. He can’t fucking say it. He’s too afraid. 

“I really hate Thanksgiving,” Mason ends up saying hoarsely instead. He doesn’t even know what THAT decided to come out of his mouth. It makes sense to him, sure, but it fucking won’t make sense to Ezra. At all. Especially when Mason is saying it in July. But Ezra doesn’t act like he’s all that confused. He just goes with it.

“I really hate Thanksgiving too,” Ezra says, “Marks the start of Native genocide. I don’t care if they had one nice dinner with the settlers. It’s like they gave them hope that things would be alright, then yanked it away by killing them off and stealing their land. Fuck Thanksgiving. I have never celebrated it. Never celebrated Easter or Christmas either. Christmas Eve is my birthday, you know this. I don't like the attention the holiday takes away from me. I only acknowledge Halloween. Join me in my ways.”

Mason chokes out a laugh but doesn’t move his face away from Ezra’s neck, “Okay. Sounds good.”

Mason feels Ezra briefly rest his cheek against the top of his head, followed by what might be a kiss against his hair - although Mason can’t be sure. He doesn’t hate the feeling though. The opposite, actually. Just like how he felt when Ezra kissed him after the party. It’s not on the lips, but it feels intimate. Loving. It should scare him, how it makes him feel, but right now he doesn’t really have it in him to care. 

“I’m guessing your hatred doesn’t solely stem from the whole genocide thing though,” Ezra says, his words quiet as he continues to slowly run a hand down Mason’s back, “Did something bad happen on Thanksgiving to make you hate it?”

Mason’s face crumples and he nods his head, inhaling an unwanted, tearful gasp as Ezra’s embrace tightens slightly. 

"Is it what you told me before?" Ezra asks, gently rubbing Mason's back and arm, "About your mom's ex and what he did?'

"No," Mason says, "It's not that. That doesn't bother me, not anymore. This is something else."

“Will you talk about it with me? Tell me what happened? It might make you feel better to talk to someone,” Ezra says.

But Mason is already shaking his head, “No. I’m fine.”

“Clearly, you’re not.”

Mason squeezes his eyes shut and thinks about sitting up but he’s not ready yet, “Seriously, I’m fine. I’m glad that you’re here. You always make me feel better. A lot better.”

The admission feels loud and Mason is already kicking himself for saying it because that is the sort of a pressure filled statement that could scare Ezra off. But if Ezra is scared, he doesn’t show it. That doesn’t surprise Mason, now that he thinks of it. Ezra is brave. He’s probably one of the bravest people Mason’s ever met. He’s supporting himself with no family nearby, he’s outgoing and outspoken, he’s not afraid to show off his work or get on a stage, he’s not afraid to be himself. He’s probably the best person Mason has ever known and he doesn’t even know where to start sorting through all of the things he isn’t supposed to feel but Ezra makes him feel anyway.

Ezra doesn’t seem to feel pressured by his admission at all. The words that come from him next sound completely effortless on his part.

“You always make me feel a lot better too,” Ezra says softly, “Every time I see you, I feel a lot better. I was worried today, when you didn’t show up. You usually come by on Sundays. I got more worried when our friends came by and you weren’t with them. I was about to chew them out for not inviting you.”

“Zane invited me,” Mason says, “I just...I don’t know. I thought about coming by this morning. I've been stressed out but today I felt overwhelmed as soon as I woke up. I was overthinking a lot of stuff that is happening now and something that happened to me a few years ago. It was...too much, I guess. I've been wanting to see you but I didn’t want to bother you or push you away with my shit-”

“Okay, I’m cutting you off, sorry,” Ezra says, but pulls Mason’s head away from his collarbone just enough to make Mason meet Ezra’s eyes as he cradles Mason’s face in his hands, “I don’t know where you got the idea that I’m bothered by you but I can promise that you are extremely wrong and dumb for thinking that.”

“Gee, thanks,” Mason says, then tries to duck his face out of Ezra’s hold but Ezra won’t let him. Mason settles for diverting his eyes instead. 

“Hey, look at me,” Ezra says, rubbing his thumbs against Mason’s cheeks, “Mason, I’m serious. I was dwelling on the fact that you weren’t there when you usually are. Then Zane said he thought you were either sick or depressed. As soon as he said that, I dumped their dishes back on the table, went back to the kitchen, and lied to my boss. I told her that I threw up in the bathroom so that she would make me leave. I came straight here.”

Mason doesn’t really have anything to say to that. Ezra searches Mason’s face for a moment, as if he is trying to find a sign that Mason doesn’t believe him. Mason’s expression must satisfy him though because Ezra brings Mason’s head back down to his chest and wraps his arms around him again.

“But I do apologize if I smell like food or sweat. I changed my clothes in the car but I usually shower as soon as I get off work to wash off the physical evidence as well as the utter disrespect I face day in and day out.”

“You smell nice,” Mason says truthfully.

Ezra lets out a laugh, “You’re such a liar.”

“No, I’m serious.”

Mason can feel Ezra shaking his head before he speaks up, “Okay, then. What do I smell like, if not food and sweat?”

“...Cedarwood,” Mason says, lifting his head up to sniff Ezra’s shoulder, before moving onto his collarbone and neck, “Maybe rosemary and citrus too. Not lasagna or thai chicken. You must have a really good body wash.”

“I must,” Ezra says, his voice sounding inexplicably strained as Mason tucks himself back into his previous position, “I’m shocked you picked out the right scents though. That is what my body wash claims to smell like. I don’t know whether to be weirded out or impressed.”

Mason shrugs in response, “I put in an effort when I realized it wasn’t Axe or Old Spice. My respect for you has gone up.”

Ezra’s chest shakes with laughter, “Well, now my respect for you has gone up too. I figured you would worship those brands, being in a frat and all. I thought I just caught you on an off day when I used your shower stuff the night I stayed here and you had some brand I never even heard of.”

“It’s vegan. Marlowe. It has aloe and green tea extract,” Mason says, closing his eyes and nuzzling into Ezra’s neck. Neither of them say a word for several minutes and Mason finally feels calm, until Ezra gently and almost hesitantly removes his left hand from Mason’s upper back. It leaves Mason feeling disappointed and stupidly hurt, even though Ezra has more than every right to not essentially hug him all night. But then Ezra dances his fingers against the skin on the back of Mason’s hand, the one resting on Ezra’s pec, before slowly interlacing their fingers together and squeezing gently.

Mason lets their hands stay that way and squeezes right back. 

\------------------------------

As much as Ezra does want to lie with Mason in bed for the rest of the evening, he has no idea if Zane is coming back or not. Ezra knows Zane better than he did a few months ago. He’s not that bad and while he’s still learning, he isn’t judgmental about someone being gay or into the same sex - even though he really doesn't want to be perceived as gay himself. That being said, Ezra knows that if Zane walks through the door and sees them like this, he is going to think what they are doing is pretty fucking gay. 

And it kind of is, at least on Ezra’s end. He’s trying not to push any physical contact that he feels Mason will not be up for, but so far? Mason seems like he really wants to be touched. If this was just a normal night and they were interacting like this, Ezra probably would have let his dick lead the way and make a move, especially when Mason had been running his nose from his shoulder to his collarbone all the way up to his neck. Ezra doesn’t want to assume anything right now, but he feels like Mason has to know how that could affect someone. So yeah, if things were normal with Mason and all of what has physically happened tonight still occurred, Ezra probably would have kissed him by now. He probably would start on Mason’s forehead, then make his way down to Mason’s eyelids and cheek before brushing his nose against Mason’s so that it would be clear what he wanted to do. And then he would do it. He wouldn't hold back like last time. They're both sober now so any mutual kissing that would happen would be one hundred percent real and not just drunken affection. Ezra would give Mason a few seconds though, before he actually did it, so that Mason would have a chance to pull away. It would also give Mason a chance to seal the deal and initiate the kiss first.

He needs to stop thinking about that shit. He’s going to get hard thinking about a fucking kiss. And he’s not going to let himself get hard, not with Mason acting the way that he is. There’s obviously something very wrong, some sort of trauma that got triggered recently that has Ezra legitimately worried. He thought it had been about what happened at the party, but it is now apparent that it isn't. It is something else far more serious - something to do with Thanksgiving, because that just came out of nowhere. As far as Ezra knows, Mason doesn’t have anyone close to him who has died, recently or before. He knows Mason’s biological father is still alive, but that’s only because of their day trip and their fucking psychic reading. Whether she had been legitimate or not, Mason hadn’t reacted one way or another to the prediction of the man dying of an overdose in what is probably just a few years. Despite the possibility of her being completely wrong or a fraud and despite the even larger possibility that Mason's bio dad is a total asshole, that’s usually something you try to debrief more on when a friend hears an announcement like that. They talked a little about the man on the ride back, but not much. 

It had been hard to talk to Mason after that reading - really hard. It had been awkward for hours, at least until dinner when they just pushed most of what that woman said under the rug after Ezra cracked a couple of jokes so that Mason would move on. It would have been funny if she hadn’t been so right about so many things. And in all honesty, the soulmate stuff hadn’t weighed on Ezra nearly as heavily as the stuff he heard about Mika and Una. In comparison, the predictions about Mason supposedly being his future husband or whatever had been nice to hear, albeit still ridiculously awkward. Kind of hard not to appreciate the thought of having a future with him, considering he's never felt more drawn to someone than he does him. But there is so much about Mason he doesn't know, so much Mason doesn't talk about and Ezra has sensed it for a while even though Mason claims that he's told him more than he's ever told another person. But Ezra barely knows anything about Mason's family. He knows his parents are recently divorced. He knows Mason is worried about his dad even though he has stayed relatively mum on the subject. He knows he misses his sister but doesn't know how to express that to her. He knows they are all alive.

Ezra may not have gotten into the hows and whys of Mika’s and Aunt Una’s deaths, but he had told Mason that they passed unexpectedly and tragically, which caused him to delay his start date. He feels like Mason would have told him if he lost someone close to him that would cause him to have days like this, so Ezra is guessing it doesn’t have to do with grief or death. He’s getting an awful feeling that it might be something like abuse or assault. A different type, one that must stick with Mason and haunt him in a way that the broken leg doesn't. He wants to pry and get Mason to open up to him - figure out who he needs to kill despite never even punching anyone outside of self-defense in his entire life. But he can’t. Not tonight. Not when Mason is starting to seem like he’s feeling a little better.

But Ezra should probably get up so that Mason can avoid an awkward conversation with Zane if he ever comes back. He definitely should get up if there is a chance of a less understanding frat boy barging in.

“I should probably go,” Ezra says softly, wincing out of guilt when Mason immediately tenses up at the words, “I don’t have any stuff here. You’re welcome to come with me. I would actually prefer it if you did. My bed’s bigger. We won’t risk one of us falling off.”

Mason finally sits up then looks down at Ezra for what feels like forever, “...What about your couch?”

Ezra tries to shrug nonchalantly, “You can stay on the couch if you want. Or you can have the other spot on the bed. Whatever you are more comfortable with.”

He almost says that it doesn’t matter to him, but that would be a lie. He definitely isn't going to make a move on Mason, not when he's like this, but he does want him close. Part of the reason is BECAUSE he's like this. But Mason needs to do whatever is best for his own comfort right now, even if that's staying on the couch.

“I’ll uh…” Mason says, running a hand down his face, “I’ll pack a bag. You’re sure Hallie and Deirdre won’t mind?”

“Deirdre is off with some preppy grad student who wanted to whisk her away to Italy for the week. She literally met him two weeks ago, but you only live once I guess,” Ezra says, “And Hallie is an actual troll. She may not look like one, but that’s what she is. She lives in her dark, windowless room and sleeps unless her schedule won’t let her. She won’t even notice you’re there. I don’t know how the fuck we are going to advertise that room when she moves out at the end of August. It’s the size of a walk-in closet and she loves it.”

“Trolls need only apply?” Mason suggests.

“Good subtitle,” Ezra smiles, then sits up to watch Mason go over to his desk and pick up his contacts case, “Honey, just put on your glasses. Let your eyes rest.”

“...I don’t like how I look in my glasses,” Mason says under his breath and Ezra sputters.

“You don’t like looking like a sexy, hot, yet wonderfully adorable, professional young bachelor?” Ezra asks incredulously.

Mason gives him a strange look but Ezra could swear that he is making him blush, “...I don’t even know where to start with that.”

“Start by understanding that we are literally just going to my apartment and you have no one to impress, unless you’re counting me,” Ezra says, “And if you _are_ counting me, then put the glasses on because I personally think you look gorgeous either way, but would rather you treat your eyes in a healthy manner instead of sticking plastic in them every single day."

"You can't speak on the subject. Your vision is perfect so you aren't allowed," Mason says, yet puts the glasses on anyway. He packs the contacts, but Ezra supposes that's fair. It's summer. He may need to wear sunglasses if they go out and do something tomorrow. 

Ezra hopes they do something outdoorsy. Mason looks so cute in sunglasses. 

\-------------------- 

"Find a _recipe_ ," Ezra insists as Mason scrolls through his phone, "I don't want to do takeout, I want to cook for you."

"I don't even know what you can and can't cook," Mason says, "I don't know whether to trust you or not."

Ezra looks away from the road for a second to shoot him a glare, "I have worked multiple caretaker jobs. I had to cook three times a day everyday. I got you, I promise."

"What about the soup?" Mason asks, looking down at the plastic container, "Are you going to let it go bad?" 

"It can be an appetizer," Ezra dismisses, "I have to doctor it up anyway, now that I know you aren't sick and need to eat bland soup. Now, come up with something."

"Uh…" Mason starts, thinking back to any conversations regarding food he's ever had with Ezra, "Fried green tomatoes."

"Yes, I like where your mind is going," Ezra says encouragingly, "I will make them like my dad does. What are we eating on the side?"

"...corn on the cob," Mason decides as Ezra nods his head in approval.

"Perfect time of year," Ezra says, "What else?"

Mason lets out a laugh, "Are you planning on a feast?"

"An appetizer, main course, and two sides is an acceptable meal, Mason!" Ezra says almost in a scolding manner.

Mason shakes his head and lets out a sigh, "Fine then. A salad. You choose the dressing and ingredients. I trust you."

"You literally questioned your trust for me ten seconds ago regarding my culinary skills, but okay," Ezra snorts before pulling into the parking lot of Hannaford Supermarket before turning off the car, "You want to come in or hang out here? If you aren't up to go in, I understand. It shouldn't take me long." 

Mason thinks on it for a moment. On the one hand, he doesn't want to be around a crowd of people. It's the reason why he hadn't left his room all day. But being alone isn't good for him right now either. While Mason knows he would survive in the car alone, he doesn't want to be alone. He just wants to be with his friend. He feels so much happier around him, safer, like he's cared for and maybe loved. He has never had more intense feelings for someone in his entire life. The only person he probably felt something remotely similar to was when he dated Tia their senior year of high school. Back then, he's sure that at least part of his thoughts everyday included her in some way. He had lost his virginity to her, something that had been a lot bigger of a step than it should have been due to what happened to him. The only reason they had broken up had been due to going to college on opposite coasts and she met someone else a week into the semester. It had hurt, back then, but the break up hadn’t been a bad one and he didn’t resent her for finding someone else. He's still friends with her on Facebook. He saw her when they were both in Pittsburgh last year and agreed to meet up with her for lunch so that they could catch up. He no longer thinks of her and gets slightly bummed over not really having her in his life anymore. If anything, he had missed her friendship more. He got over it a lot easier than he probably should have. 

He thinks a lot more about Ezra than he ever thought about Tia. Mason's thoughts seem to include Ezra in some capacity almost all of the time, which is probably abnormal or even obsessive. Tia hadn't even taken up that much space in his mind even after they slept together. Mason and Ezra haven't even kissed on the lips and Ezra has never actually touched him intimately. Up until two weeks ago, he kept telling himself it had stemmed from confusing platonic and romantic love. The psychic reading stirred the already confusing thoughts up. The drunken kisses and the fact that they jerked off in front of each other before embracing the whole night kind of killed the majority of his confusion.

Mason might not be acting on his feelings but he isn't fucking dumb. He knows what he's feeling now. He does. He had suspected it for a while and it was undeniably confirmed when he and Ezra kissed each other over and over.

He just doesn't know what to do about it. He doesn't know what this makes him or if he's always been like this, whatever 'this' is. He's seen guys that he thought were attractive before. He can't say that he's never been curious. He's never actually developed romantic or sexual feelings for a guy, though. Those feelings have always been reserved for women - only three of them, actually. The one night stand he had in Cancun had been a fluke because Mason has a really hard time having a sexual relationship with a person unless he connects with them and gets to know them first. It had taken months with Tia. He dated Tiva over a month before sleeping with her. Mason doesn't feel like that's a terribly long time, but it probably is for the average college guy in a fraternity. With Zira, he tried to not drag his feet as much. She had only been in the country for a semester and was three years older than him. It was the least serious relationship he had, but he still really cared about her and was sad when she left last semester. For Mason, any sexual desires for specific people have only really formed after he developed romantic feelings for them and started a relationship with them. The few people he had formed romantic feelings for had been women. 

Until now. 

He doesn't have a relationship with Ezra, not like that, and yet he feels more committed and head over heels for him than he had for Tia, Tiva, and Zira combined. Why the fuck do all of the names sound and look so fucking similar, like one was leading up to the next? Tia, Tiva, Zira, Ezra. Is that supposed to mean something? He should have asked that psychic, except that he couldn't with Ezra sitting right there. He should have also asked her why he's suddenly developing feelings over a guy now, at 20. Shouldn't it have popped up before now? And if him being bi or gay is actually a new development, shouldn't his feelings be mild and not all consuming?

But there's a part of Mason - his more objective part - that knows it probably isn't that new. Just because his curiosities had been vague and general doesn't mean they hadn't existed. They had. And if he is going to continue being honest with himself, Mason knows he stopped those curiosities from turning into anything more than that. He knows how he felt when Kai kissed him in his own confusion before deciding not to be all that confused anymore. Mason had felt slightly turned on, but that was more easily dismissed, especially at 14. The envy he felt over Kai's decision to be honest with himself is what really messed with his head. Kai didn't even come out to anyone else for another two years and Mason had still felt that way. But luckily, he hadn't had romantic feelings for Kai. He felt nothing but happiness for his friend when he got a boyfriend a few years later. 

But Ezra? The feelings Ezra brings out of him make any romantic or sexual feelings that he's felt for anyone else feel dismissive and meaningless. He's never felt like this. Ever. 

He knows he can't just tell Ezra - for multiple reasons. He can't lose Ezra as a friend. That would break his heart more than Tia ever did. He also can't lose his family, if he even still has them. Although, Molly wouldn't judge him. She would probably love Ezra more than she loves Mason if for some reason Ezra decided to reciprocate and something did develop between them (his mind can't comprehend 'something' right now. It absolutely cannot). But his dad? The man who had disconnected from his gay son? Mason would be flat out disowned. He fucking knows it. His mom is slightly more of a toss up. But when Mason thinks back to when Kai came out to everyone (and he means EVERYONE) at 16, he feels like her response wouldn't be much better. Kai had been smart, athletic, musically talented, kind, and very attractive. Still is. In high school, he had been the ideal son. But when he came out, Kai's parents weren't happy at all. Kai's mother and Mason's mother developed a close friendship due to Mason being friends with Kai for so long. But when Mason's mother found out, all she could say was, "Oh, poor Ema. She's so upset. I can't imagine. Mason, how long have you known?" 

His mother had been disappointed enough in Kai. Mason wasn't about to tell her he had known since the day Kai kissed him. Mason can't imagine how she would be if Mason told her what he's feeling right now. 

"Earth to Mason. Hellooo," Ezra calls out, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Huh?" Mason says, snapping out of his thoughts, only to see Ezra looking at him with concern.

"You zoned out there for a minute," Ezra says, rubbing Mason's neck briefly before putting a friendly arm around his shoulders, "You good?"

Mason takes a second, then nods his head, "...Uh huh."

Ezra keeps watching him closely, "Are you sure? It took a few tries to get your attention. Are you uh...are you thinking about what you were thinking about before?"

Mason shakes his head and swallows around the lump in his throat, "No, it's not that. Not really. I just...I don't know. I feel weird."

Ezra nods, "Okay. Do you think you might be sick after all?"

"No. I'm not sick."

"Maybe…" Ezra starts, "Maybe you're just hungry. You haven't eaten at all today. It could be why you're spacing out and not feeling like yourself. Why don't you stay here in case-"

"No, I want to come in," Mason says quickly. 

"...Okay," Ezra says, still looking concerned, "Let me know if you feel off, I guess."

Mason walks alongside Ezra into the store and has an overwhelming urge to run away but also a stronger urge to throw his arms around him and stay like that as they walk. Both would be super weird so Mason doesn't do either. Instead, they just talk about Ezra's plans for dinner, the upcoming pre-production and casting process for the play, and - at one point - argue about which brand of hot sauce is better. But they don't talk about cuddling in bed together or Mason's issues. The only somewhat personal thing that gets brought up is when a question enters Mason's mind.

"How did you get into the house without me?" Mason says suddenly when Ezra puts the cornmeal in the cart. 

"I knocked?" Ezra shrugs before pushing the cart down the aisle.

"And they let you in? No questions?" Mason asks.

Ezra glances at Mason, "They had questions. I bullshitted but they didn't just let me go upstairs."

Mason stops walking, "What did they ask you?"

"Semi-homophobic crap. Nothing sinister, just insinuations. More mild than Caleb was," Ezra sighs, then meets Mason's eyes again, "Like I said before, I have a reputation with the fraternities."

Mason nods, "I know you've said that. Although you won't tell me why."

"I'm surprised Ronnie hasn't told you," Ezra says, letting out a humorless laugh, "He knows plenty."

"You know Ronnie?"

"I know Ronnie." 

"But…" Mason starts, trying to think back, "You said you had no personal issues with Tri-Kappa."

"...I don't," Ezra says, moving onto the spices, "Ronnie actually helped me. Today by getting your other brothers to back off so that I could go up and see you and a couple of years ago when he took me to the hospital. He's not the most woke person ever but he isn't all that bad. He doesn't want anyone bleeding out on the sidewalk. So he has that going for him." 

The way Ezra says it so casually, like what he just said isn't completely fucked, makes it so Mason can't answer for a moment. He just stands there as Ezra continues to browse the spices like he didn't just drop some major bomb. 

"I'm almost out of garlic salt," Ezra says thoughtfully, picking up a container, "I should buy garlic salt."

That snaps Mason out of it.

"What are you talking about? What the fuck happened to make you almost bleed out on the sidewalk?" Mason says, stepping closer only to essentially be ignored by Ezra, "I'm serious! Talk to me."

Ezra turns to look at the hand Mason has suddenly put on his forearm, "Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. You're upset already. I don't want to get you more upset. It's in the past, alright? I'm not dwelling on it. Much. Barely. It's not even the worst thing that's happened to me." 

"Then you should have no issue talking about it," Mason points out.

Ezra looks around, "In the middle of a supermarket?"

Mason doesn't take his eyes off of Ezra, "I don't care where you say it. But you should talk about it. It probably would help to talk to someone."

Ezra lets out a breath before letting his eyes fall on Mason once more, "You know you sound like a hypocrite when you say that, right?"

Mason's mouth goes dry, "Yeah, well...this isn't the worst thing to ever happen to you, supposedly. The thing that I didn't want to talk about was the worst thing to ever happen to me." 

Ezra's eyes soften at that and Mason has to look away when Ezra reaches out to touch his cheek, another intimate gesture that only Ezra has done to him, that Mason only wants Ezra to do.

"...Fine. After dinner," Ezra says, then puts his hand down and turns back to the spices, "But only if you let me read something you've written. And not a fucking marketing or economics paper. That doesn't count. You know what I'm referring to."

"I'm not letting you read the play from before. Or the new novel," Mason says stubbornly, "I've only finished the rough draft."

Ezra turns back around quickly to look at him with excitement, "You finished it?"

Mason barely gets a nod out before Ezra throws his arms around him enthusiastically.

"Stop paying attention to me," Mason groans, his arms wrapping around Ezra anyway, "Go intensely stare at the spice section again. It was almost entertaining watching you."

\-------------------

Ezra proves to be a good cook. Mason really isn't surprised. He's good at almost everything, except for lacrosse. Mason had tried to teach him the basics once. Ezra looked seriously put off by the whole experience but did it to humor him. He's much more enthusiastic about cooking and his efforts show in each bite as they sit in front of the coffee table to eat and watch The Normal Heart on HBO. That's at Ezra's insistence. Mason can agree that it's very good but part of him wonders if Ezra chose it because it focuses on gay men and Mason is sort of coming to terms right now. Can Ezra see that? Is Mason making his gaydar go off or is Ezra just trying to show him a good movie?

Whatever.

They both take a shower after the movie is finished. Separately, obviously. But when it's Mason's turn, he can't help but imagine Ezra doing the same thing moments before. When he starts to get aroused by the idea, Mason turns up the cold water. 

When he goes back into Ezra's room, he feels a tension that hadn't been there before. He's feeling it coming from within himself but also from Ezra. Mason tries to push it down though, to be present for whatever Ezra is going to tell him. He works on that even as he sits on the bed and lies down next to him. 

"So-" Mason starts to say but Ezra cuts him off.

"I'm not going to give you the long version," Ezra says abruptly, "Just the short version. The short version to read one of your shorter stories."

"That is a really weird transaction," Mason says, sighing as he opens his Google Docs app on his phone to scroll through it, "Who is going first?"

It takes Ezra longer to decide on that before he shrugs, "I guess I will."

"Okay," Mason says, putting his phone on his chest, "I'm listening." 

Ezra lets out a breath before he starts, "I had a fling with one of the guys at Alpha Chi Alpha my freshman year. We met at orientation, that's the only reason I knew him. We both started late, for different reasons. I had a lot of family stuff going on and shit to work through and he took a gap year to travel, I guess. Sort of bonded over that and hung out before he got into ACA, started hooking up after. I liked him. I wasn't madly in love with him or anything but I liked what we were doing and we got along well. I thought we did. I don't know. Anyway, some of the frat found out and harassed him over being gay. He insisted that he wasn't, so he just completely dropped me out of nowhere. It hurt because we were friends. I would have let it go if it just stayed like that, him ignoring me. But I don't know if he was continuing to face harassment from his other friends or if he was just trying to prove something. He started becoming really nasty to me any time he saw me and seemed to go out of his way to do it. I called him out sort of publicly at a party we were both at. I embarrassed him. It was really out of character for me and I am ashamed that I said what I said. But it pissed him off so badly that he and a few of his friends jumped me when I was walking back to my dorm room. They were all super drunk. I was drunk too. One of them must have had a knife and stabbed me in the stomach."

Mason has to force himself to breathe in order to calm himself down, "What?"

Ezra doesn't meet his eyes, "Which part did you not hear?"

"I heard all of it!" Mason grits out, "Why have I never heard about this? That's the sort of shit that makes news."

Ezra shrugs, "It made a few local papers. Everything was very vague though. It just covered a Dartmouth student being jumped. But the wound wasn't serious. I needed stitches but it wasn't that bad. No internal damage, just a lot of blood. Still have a little bit of a scar. Anyway, Ronnie saw me on the sidewalk, freaked out for a second over the thought of getting in trouble for drinking underage, but his morals won out so he called 911 and stayed with me while I was stitched up. We didn't become close friends or anything but if we see each other, we'll say hello and we'll small talk-"

"What happened to the guys that attacked you?" Mason asks forcefully, sitting up, "What happened to the fucking asshole you used to hook up with? What's his fucking name-"

"Ooooh, I've never seen a protective Mason before," Ezra jokes, as if he is trying to diffuse the situation.

"It's not fucking funny!" Mason says loudly as Ezra puts his hands up. 

"I know it's not," Ezra says placatingly, "...The guys got a slap on the wrist. They were forced to resign from the fraternity and got put on probation for like a year. They had to finish drug and alcohol classes, but they made me and Ronnie do that too, which is fucked up considering I was the victim and Ronnie had only been trying to help. But the guys were ultimately allowed to stay on campus."

"How?" Mason asks demandingly, "How the fuck weren't they expelled or put in prison?"

As soon as the words are out of Mason's mouth, he realizes it is a stupid question. So fucking stupid. He technically has a gay brother who was bashed a lot worse and the guy who did it just got community service because of his parents' wealth and the fact that Justin was and continues to be openly gay.

Ezra's response isn't all that different.

"Having rich, powerful alumni parents worked in their favor," Ezra says, "And the fact that it technically happened off campus grounds. The campus police told me I had to talk to the city police, but the city police told me I had to talk with the campus police since it dealt with students and the altercation started on campus. I don't know. It's all bullshit, if you ask me. But I could only go back and forth so many times. I thought about getting a lawyer but I couldn't afford a lawyer. It wasn't like I was hurt enough for a lawyer to go out of their way and go pro bono for me. My parents wanted to get me one after they flew in to be with me but they're fucking broke and I wouldn't let them fuck up their finances even more. I might have gotten settlement money out of it to shut me up or whatever, so it could have been worth it. I just didn't feel like going through the potential years of effort. It is what it is."

Mason shakes his head, his chest heaving with anger still, "Don't say that over something that serious. I mean it. I have an older brother who was bashed for being gay and he almost died-"

Ezra sits up quickly to look at Mason closely, "Woah, wait. What? I have known you for over four months now and never - absolutely never - have you mentioned a brother, let alone a gay brother."

Mason shrugs, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, "I barely know him. Not by choice. He's my dad's son with his first wife and he was already living independently by the time my dad had me and my mom move in. He's not close with Justin either. They don't talk." 

Ezra just stares at him for a minute and it is starting to make Mason extremely uncomfortable, "...Justin. Justin Taylor? I'm assuming that his last name is Taylor."

"Yeah."

"THE Justin Taylor."

Mason scoffs, "I don't think the 'THE' is on his birth certificate."

Ezra keeps staring at Mason, "That guy is famous."

"Yeah," Mason murmurs, "I know."

"You don't talk to him?"

"I mean," Mason starts, trying to think of what to say, "I have a few times. It's not like I have never met him. I've seen him when I'm with Molly and she goes to meet up with him. They're close. He's her biological brother, so that's to be expected, I guess."

Ezra nods, before his eyes become more concerned, "Why don't your dad and Justin talk?"

Mason closes his eyes before meeting Ezra's again, "You can probably guess why."

Ezra purses his lips, "I know you love your dad. I don't want to assume anything negative about him. Is it because Justin is gay?"

"Yes," Mason says, then bites his lip, "...Look, my dad isn't a bad person, alright? I know that him disconnecting from Justin fucking sucks and is awful. I can't defend that and I would never even try. I just...I didn't tell you because you know I care about my dad and I didn't want you to think I believe the same stuff as he did or does or-"

"I don't," Ezra says gently, putting a hand on Mason's arm, "Hey, I don't. And I understand that you love your dad. I get that. He's been good to you and he loves you. It's hard for you to be mad at what he did before when he's good to you. I'm not judging. You know that I wouldn't."

Mason technically hadn't known that - not on that topic - but it makes Mason feel both relieved and vulnerable. It might be the combination of the two that makes him say what he does next.

"I don't want him to hate me."

Ezra's hand moves from Mason's arm to his back, "...Why would your dad hate you?"

"What's that guy's name?" Mason asks quickly, because he can't talk about that right now, not when he's still trying to figure things out, not when he really isn't about how Ezra feels about him. But the question ends up making him feel a flare of self-inflicted anger by circling back around to the original topic.

Ezra lets out a sigh as he puts his arm down and looks at Mason sadly before answering, "...Tyler Benson."

"I'll fucking kill him."

Ezra just snorts at the threat.

"I'm serious."

"I'd prefer it if you didn't," Ezra tells him, "Seriously. I don't want you getting in trouble for starting shit with him. He's left me alone since that night anyway, mostly keeps to himself. Just because the school didn't make him face many consequences, doesn't mean the majority of the students here didn't hate what he did. From what I understand, he doesn't have very many friends. So I'm okay, I promise you. I mean, some guys in different frats see me as some incubus who will seduce them and fuck up their lives. It's a weird reputation to have but I've mostly made peace with it."

"Mostly isn't fully," Mason says and Ezra rolls his eyes.

"Enough about me," Ezra says, making it clear that they're moving on in the conversation, "We made a deal. You promised to let me read something you have written and I have not forgotten that, despite the heavy topics we talked about tonight." 

Mason lets out a sound of acknowledgement, then throws himself down on the bed, "What are you in the mood for? Happy, sad, creepy, strange?"

Ezra shrugs, "Normally, I would say sad but like I said, we just talked about some heavy shit. Give me something happy. Although, if you have something that's happy and strange, I will truly be impressed."

Mason scrolls through his docs, clicks on a yet to be titled one he finished last summer, then adds Ezra's email to the invite list despite feeling like his heart is pounding. 

"There," Mason says, locking his phone and tossing it onto the bed, "I gave you access to one. The invite should be in your email. You might want to save it for another time though. It will probably take a couple of hours to read. It's around 40,000 words."

"So it's a _novella_. And a long novella at that," Ezra says, sounding excited as he unlocks his own phone, "And like hell I am waiting. I have waited for over four months so I'm not going to risk you changing your mind in the middle of the night and taking me off of the access list. Shall I read it out loud?"

" _No_ ," Mason says pointedly before turning on his side, choosing to look at the wall over Ezra in an attempt to calm his nerves, "I'm going to bed. Night."

"Bullshit, you slept all day."

"It's midnight," Mason says, his eyes shut, "And I didn't sleep _well_. Can you turn off the light?" 

"Yeah," Ezra says, right before he feels the bed shift, "Is the light from my phone going to bother you? Do you want me to read in the other room?"

Mason lets out a sigh and burrows more deeply under the covers, "I'll survive."

\--------------------

"Mason. _Mason_. Hey!" 

Mason only opens his eyes when he feels two fingers pry his eyelids open and he lets out a tired moan.

"Sorry," Ezra says, propping himself up on his elbows, "Did I wake you?"

Mason lets out a huff, then squints at Ezra's alarm clock. 2:30 am. Why is Ezra doing this now?

"I'm going back to sleep," Mason mutters, closing his eyes as he feels his body become drowsy once more. 

"No, wait!" Ezra says, patting Mason's chest, "I wanna talk about your novella. It was so fucking good. I can't sleep because of how good it was. I have been thinking about it for the last half hour and I can't go to sleep without talking to someone else who has read it and since no one else has and the author is literally in my bed-"

"You're reacting like this on purpose. You're trying too hard," Mason says under his breath.

"Fuck that!" Ezra says loudly, "I'm holding back. I had to leave the room to stop myself from waking you up because your story did things to me. I had been preparing myself to read a male perspective because you are a guy and a lot of male authors write leading male characters, which is fine but predictable. But you wrote two female leads in this very subtle yet detailed and atmospheric purgatory. And one of them was gay! My respect for you has shot through the roof due to the attempt alone. The fact that you wrote a masterpiece? Mason, you don't understand how much I loved this. Like, you don't know how frustrating it is to read some work from guys who don't know how to write complex and relatable women and you did it so beautifully, elegantly, and respectfully. You didn't focus on their physical beauty. You focused on building up the characters into some of the most multi-faceted characters I have read in a long time. In only 40,000 words! The plot was so tightly woven and concise. And it _was_ happy and strange. So happy and strange. But when Jade saw her mom again, I was fucking bawling and I hated you so much because it was just supposed to be happy and strange, not give me emotions that made me feel like I was being repeatedly punched in the gut!"

"Uh huh," Mason mumbles, his eyes closing. 

"Mason!" Ezra says insistently, sitting up to lightly slap him on the stomach, "Mason, I can't sleep. I'm so hungry."

"How are you hungry?" Mason asks, "We ate so-"

"I meant metaphorically," Ezra responds, "For a stimulating conversation. Or for more of your work to shut me up."

"No."

Mason is met with silence and if he weren't woken up from a dead sleep, he might feel guilty. But Ezra is putting on a show to make him feel more secure or something. Mason had enjoyed writing that story, but it does not deserve this kind of praise. Ezra probably thought it was okay. That is Mason's consensus until Ezra rolls right on top of him. 

Jesus Christ.

"Please," Ezra begs, lightly patting Mason's face, "I'm officially your biggest fan. I was planning on waiting until tomorrow to ask you to adapt your novella into a play. You could do it yourself or I could co-adapt if you don't want to put all of the work in. I really mean everything I'm saying and I need you to believe me. It's the best thing I have read in a long time. I know you are super skilled in securing money for causes, organizations, and companies, but you're a writer. You're a fucking phenomenal writer and you are holding out on everyone with all of the short stories, plays, novellas, and books you have hidden in your Google Drive. You could be huge with the amount of talent you have and the fact that most of the people in your life don't even know about it is so upsetting to me."

Mason doesn't even know what to say so he just reaches up to rub his eyes before tilting his head downwards. There Ezra is, his head on Mason's chest, gazing up at him _adoringly_. If he weren't so tired and if he weren't feeling so vulnerable over showing his work to someone, he would probably feel nervous. Or he would be mistaking arousal for nervousness, now that he knows what the fuck Ezra has been doing to him. 

"Okay, that's enough eye contact for now," Mason says more to himself as he gives Ezra a pat on the back and lets his arms rest around him, "Good night."

"But our Q&A-"

"Later. When I have slept."

Ezra shrugs, unbothered by Mason’s disregard for the planned Q&A, "Okay, fine. But I am reading it again while you sleep. And I'm making lattes and croissants in the morning when we both get up, so that the Q&A will be more proper. It will be like we are in a coffee shop but we're not-"

"Do whatever you need to do."

Ezra seems to accept that and does what he needs to do. Going by the fact that Ezra is on his phone again, that seems to consist of reading Mason's story once more. It also seems to consist of keeping his head on Mason's chest as he slowly scrolls. Mason lets him stay that way and drifts off once more. His dream has Ezra reading a book with Mason's name on it. His feet are propped up on the dashboard and he keeps glancing at Mason with kind, dark eyes all while Mason drives on an open road. Mason isn't sure where it's going, but in the dream, he is certain that it is leading to somewhere good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


	9. Late July 2014, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra and Mason go on a five day lakeside getaway with their group of friends.

"So, before, when you didn't know Mason was going on our lakeside getaway, you said that you 'probably couldn't go'. But now that you find out he's coming, you've suddenly changed your mind?"

The words come from Deirdre and Ezra forces himself not to roll his eyes and instead focuses on packing his duffle bag, "Are we going to be gone for three days or four?"

"Five," Deirdre says, looking Ezra up and down, "Which is why I am shocked that you are saying yes to missing that much work."

Ezra shrugs, "I'm doubling up on my shifts tomorrow and I'll double up again after we get back."

"Yes, but you acted like that would be too hard to arrange prior to finding out Mason's coming," Deirdre points out, "But once I told you this morning, you literally arranged it within minutes and texted the group chat saying you could come after all."

Ezra exhales, then zips up his bag, "What do you want me to say?"

Deirdre shrugs, "Nothing. I just find it interesting that you went from not wanting to pursue anything with Mason to hanging out with him constantly. I also find it interesting that when he first started staying here, he was on the couch. Now? He's in your bed. With you. You can't even deny it because I have walked in on you guys doing the sweetheart's cradle, spooning, generally wanting to live in each other's skin-"

"And your point? Other than you needing to learn how to knock?" Ezra asks, turning to watch Deirdre stand in his doorway.

"No point," Deirdre says, "It's just odd you haven't told anyone that you have a boyfriend now. Because the way you guys are with each other? He's not anything less than that, babe."

Ezra lets out a sigh. He's trying to play dumb he really fucking is. The problem is that he isn't dumb. He got into fucking Dartmouth on scholarships. He knows it and so does Deirdre. 

"...We haven't even kissed yet!" Ezra ends up groaning, throwing himself onto the bed, "I want to, I really fucking want to, but I don't want to push him. I'm hoping he will make the first move. There are days when I think that he will and then there are days when I think I am fucking imagining everything and he just sees me as a friend. But I can't stop thinking about him. Like, the amount of thoughts I have that revolve around Mason on a daily basis are ridiculous. Obsessive. I need to be committed."

Deirdre lets out a laugh, "You do not need to be committed for being in love. You know that's what this is, right?"

"Yes," Ezra grits out before lifting his head up to meet Deirdre's eyes again, "You can't say a word to anyone."

Deirdre squints at him in confusion, "Sweetie, I hate to break it to you, but everyone can see it. You kind of make it hard when you literally haven't hooked up with ANYONE since the day you met him."

Ezra thinks back on the last few months before letting his jaw drop.

"Yeah," Deirdre says, nodding, "It's been weird to say the least. You may have chilled out a bit since your mega-slut days, but this vow of chastity you've been taking is completely out of character."

She's wrong. She has to be wrong.

"...Wait a second, you are wrong," Ezra says, finally remembering someone, "I hooked up with that girl from his Principles of Marketing class, the one I met when I picked him up on his birthday? The one I called a few nights after he left for Mexico? Yeah, her." 

Deirdre just smiles at Ezra knowingly, "Who's 'her'?"

Ezra scoffs, "That was months ago. I can't remember that far back. I got into Dartmouth, not Harvard. Don't ask me a question you know I can't answer."

" _Megan Moore_ ," Deirdre enunciates, "Even I remember her name, you dick. And some hookup that was. She asked me the next morning if you didn't like orgasms because she couldn't get you hard."

"Harsh, but fair," Ezra says, not particularly bothered. 

"She probably would have thought you were one hundred percent gay if it weren't for the fact you made her scream when you went down on her," Deirdre says, "Pretty sure the whole building heard that so your reputation probably wasn't ruined by the encounter. If anything, your reputation as some sort of sex god is being ruined by you and the fact that you are pining so hard. Like I said, there's no need to say a word because you are making it clear to everyone how you feel-"

"I don't mean don't talk about my feelings for him," Ezra says, "I know I am doing a terrible job hiding those. I meant no one can know that there is a possibility that Mason might be feeling the same. Or maybe he's not. He's probably not-"

"Oh, he is," Deirdre says, cutting Ezra off, "Everyone can see that too. Even Zane. Zane says that Mason talks about you all the time and can't go more than five minutes without bringing you into the conversation some way or another. He's wondering if he should let him know that he accepts him being into guys."

"Pfft, please," Ezra says, sitting up fully, "We don't know anything for sure. And besides, Zane has the worst gaydar on the planet."

"Yeah," Deirdre says, biting back a smile, "He does. That should tell you something if he's seeing it."

Ezra puts his head in his hands, "I have never felt this way before."

"I know. I can tell. He's doing something to you. I mean, I don't get it. Don't get me wrong, he's super cute, but he's a frat boy who is into sports-"

"No, he's not," Ezra says, before rolling his eyes, "Okay, yes he is. But those aren't his most important qualities at all. He joined a frat because his dad had been in the same one and he likes lacrosse and is good at it, but that's not his passion. He is such a good writer, D. He has only let me read two pieces of his work, but I was blown away. He won't share it with anyone. I'm trying to get him to. I'm thinking if he releases a piece anonymously and he sees how well received it is, he might become more open regarding looking into getting published. I'm getting him to consider doing that, even if it is for the student magazine. His work is way too good for them though. But he's shared it with _me_ , no one else. He also comes here whenever I'm upset but usually doesn't push me to talk about what I'm upset about. He just lies down in bed with me and we hold each other. He lets me do the same for him too. At first, I had to go and offer comfort if I had a feeling he wasn't doing well. But now, if he's feeling a certain way or is lonely or upset, he _tells_ me and even feels comfortable enough asking me to hold him. I think we have come really close to kissing a couple of times. We sort of did after the party. Just not on the lips."

"There it is," Deirdre says, nodding, "I knew something had to have happened. There was no way you went into your room with him after the party, only for the two of you to just go and lie down. So what did happen?"

Ezra lets out a breath and wars with himself on whether or not to spill the beans on that night. When it comes down to it, he decides that he needs to tell _someone_ what happened and what's been happening.

"After we went into my room that night, both of us kept...I don't know, compulsively yet gently kissing each other. But never on the fucking lips. I started it, obviously. I couldn’t help myself. I kissed him on his face, his forehead, his neck and the corner of his mouth. He did the same to me and we just kept doing it for like an hour. I thought about just kissing him then but I was pretty wasted and he even was worse off than me so it didn't feel right. Anyway, you were right about the weed. We both got hard. We uh...we both started grinding against each other and necking. I told him we should slow things down and he looked really sad and apologized, like it was his fault-"

"Because he's in love with you and even more dense than you are," Deirdre says, "Go on."

"Anyway," Ezra says, wondering how he can tactfully say this, "I suggested he go to the shower and take care of his problem while I do the same for mine in here. He didn't want to be spotted by you and neither did I since you were trying to shove condoms at us before." 

"For good reason, apparently," Deirdre scoffs then narrows her eyes, "Wait...you didn't go without, did you? I swear, if you fucked Mason bareback just because you didn't want to prove me right-"

"Really?" Ezra says, glaring, "You think I would do that? I mean, I'm clean and I am assuming he is too, but that's the kind of shit you save for the wedding night."

"So you snuck out, got married, and then fucked him bareback-"

"We didn't fuck!" Ezra says, groaning, "We kissed for a while, jerked off together, and held each other. In that order but also all at the same time. Then I just shrugged it off the next day because I didn't want him to feel awkward. But it doesn't necessarily mean he likes me. You've seen frat porn-"

"Everyone has gotten a glimpse of frat porn, yes," Deirdre nods.

"They jerk off together in that all of the time," Ezra finishes, "And it is implied that they are still straight. It could have been like that for Mason. As for the kissing, like I said, it was never on the lips. They could have easily been drunken friend kisses for him."

Deirdre looks stunned for a moment before she suddenly falls into uncontrollable laughter, "Drunken friend kisses? Yeah fucking right. That is literally the gayest thing I have ever heard in my life. Possibly even gayer than you guys jerking off together. You were probably giving each other eskimo kisses too."

Ezra can't deny it, so he just lets out a groan and throws himself back on the bed in despair instead.

"You are so dramatic," Deirdre snorts, walking further into the room, "He's head over heels for you, I don't see why you have any doubt in your mind over that fact. Mason would not do the things he is doing with you with any of his friends. Do you see him giving drunken, friend kisses to Zane?"

"...No," Ezra admits, wincing at the mere thought of it because that's just fucking weird, "Ugh, don't put that image in my brain."

Deirdre shrugs, "Fine, we'll move on from that hilarious scenario, but speaking of Zane, he and Yas have both said it's really hard for Mason to enter relationships, even though he's had two girlfriends since starting college so I think he must do better than they think he does. But I guess he's really shy about stuff like that. They don't know why he struggles with just going for it. He gets hit on plenty, the cutie that he is. Lots of seniors tend to hit on him because he’s so adorable, so I guess you finally fit a stereotype, congrats. But he isn't the type to sleep around and he is picky when it comes to who he lets himself fall for. He obviously fell for you, but you might have to be the one to make the first move."

Ezra lets out a grunt at that and nothing else.

"Such a freaking princess," Deirdre sighs, then looks down at him fondly, "You know, instead of going into word vomit mode, all you had to say was that you decided to go on the trip because you can't stand the thought of being away from Mason for five days."

"I'm going on the trip because I can't stand the thought of being away from Mason for five days," Ezra says quietly.

"Good," Deirdre says, "It'll be fine. Yas and Zane are taking the third floor suite, Giovanni and I will have the room on the first floor, Charmaine and Pedro are taking the back room on the second floor, Frankie and Jessie are taking the room in the front, Hallie is taking the smallest bedroom because she's Hallie and that suits her needs, and you and Mason are getting the basement suite. It has its own entrance and everything."

Ezra meets Deirdre's eyes, "And who decided Mason and I would be sharing a room?" 

"Oh, when you said yes, we all collectively decided that it was going to happen," Deirdre says, "Yas immediately made a new group chat that doesn't include you or Mason and asked how we were going to get you guys to take that step, if you haven't yet. We honestly weren't sure if you guys have had sex or not. Apparently, you haven't. Anyway, Zane said 'Make them share a bed for five days straight' and I was really proud of him in that moment. He's grown a lot. I don't think Zane knows that Mason has been sleeping with you in your bed when he's here but he hasn't stayed here five days straight, so frat bro just might be onto something."

"Ah, so Zane is in on your conniving plan to help me get with Mason," Ezra says, "Got it. I'm sure that won't freak Mason out at all."

Deirdre scoffs, "We're not going to _tell_ him. Hell, I wasn't even supposed to tell you. But I did tell you because one: I can't keep secrets from you and two: I got you some lube and condoms to put in your bag in case things go very well between you two on our trip. I know he's different for you. I know you don't want to push him and you won't want to come off as if you were expecting sex if he happens to see it. But it is best to be prepared-"

"For full on anal?" Ezra asks, barking out a laugh, "He has never had sex with a guy and you think we're going straight for the ass as soon as one of us makes a move?"

"I don't know what your process is!" Deirdre says, but throws a pink satin baggie on the bed regardless, "All I know is that you have a reputation of being a top. I have walked in on you fucking two separate guys on two separate occasions. You were definitely doing anal and you were definitely topping both times. You also topped Pedro when you fucked him the two times that you did. Very silly move, but oh well. I have also seen your dick. It is far from small. I am thinking of Mason and his physical comfort during what should be a pleasurable, memorable, loving, and worry free experience for him-'"

"Okay, stop," Ezra says holding up a hand, "I'm not getting my hopes up but if it ever comes down to that and who knows if it ever will, I expect to bottom first even though I lean a lot more towards topping. I wouldn't overwhelm him like that."

Deirdre gets a soft look on her face, "...You _are_ in love with him-'"

"Get out of my room!" Ezra says, "Everything that was said in this room stays here. Go bother Hallie. I'm still shocked you got her to go."

"It wasn't easy. I had to remind her she is only going to be in New Hampshire another month before she goes off to her new closet in New York." Deirdre says, "You're in charge of getting her out of her room while we're on vay-cay. Don't accept her excuses. Go paddle boating with her or something."

"I thought I was supposed to be seducing Mason," Ezra says.

Deirdre lets out a laugh, "I expect you guys to last three days max before something happens, so you will have plenty of time to pester Hallie. We also conveniently made sure that Mason would offer to drive his car to take some people up, but the only passenger in it will be you so you get two whole hours with him before we even get there."

"How novel," Ezra says sarcastically, "I never get to spend time with Mason on my own."

"Just shut up and appreciate me."

\--------------------

Mason pulls up in front of Ezra’s apartment a little after everyone else has hit the road. He wanted to give Ezra more time to sleep since he worked a double yesterday so they won’t be at Lake Winnipesaukee until noon. Maybe Ezra doesn’t need sleep though. Maybe he survives on caffeine and sheer will because when Mason is unbuckling his seatbelt to get out of the car to meet him upstairs, Ezra is already leaving the building and approaching him. 

"You want me to drive?" Ezra asks as he puts his bag in the back next to Mason's.

"You always drive," Mason points out, "You worked sixteen hours yesterday. Play DJ."

Ezra stares at him with a glint in his eye, "You are going to regret those words coming out of your mouth. My taste is eclectic at best."

Mason won't regret it. He had already known that. He's so fucking gone for Ezra and everything he does, even when he plays ridiculously weird music. Despite generally coming to terms with what is happening here, there are still nights when he overthinks everything and freaks out. He'll think he's just super curious and the reason why Ezra is the person he is fixating on is because he likes him and he's comfortable around him. Those are the nights when he has Zane snoring away in the next bed over. It's more of a toss up when he's alone. Sometimes his thought process is similar, but more nights than not, Mason obsesses over Ezra when he's alone. He thinks about confessing everything to him. He fantasizes about kissing him. He fantasizes about being in a relationship with him. As soon as his thoughts turn more erotic, his hand goes straight for his dick. The constant hum of thoughts never stops.

But the nights where he is with Ezra? Those are the nights when he is the happiest. Those are the nights when he doesn't focus on what he is or what he isn't. Those are the nights when he and Ezra talk until they can't anymore and they just sleep, sometimes holding each other purposely and sometimes just waking up that way. Sometimes they aren't even in bed until sunrise. There are nights when they have just driven around New Hampshire and Vermont, normally talking but sometimes they just drive in silence. Being silent with someone is a lot harder than it sounds. People may think they can do it, but they can't - not without a phone or a book in their hands to keep themselves occupied and let their minds wander elsewhere. Mason and Ezra need neither. Mason will sit in the passenger seat as Ezra drives along dark back roads, going and going until they are able to see a star scattered sky and nothing else. 

They had done that last week. Ezra had called him at 9 pm after he had gotten off of work and told him he was outside. Mason had joined him within minutes and they drove around mostly in silence until they ended up at Grand Isle State Park over one hundred miles away. Ezra had parked the car in a small empty lot, grabbed a large blanket from his trunk, and took Mason's hand before leading him onto the sand that lined the shore of Lake Champlain. They had lain on the blanket watching both the water and the stars. Ezra had initially provided some insightful commentary on the constellations and some mythology passed down on the reservation before falling into silence once more, their hands barely touching until Mason shivered due to the wind. It had been then that Ezra had taken his coat off, put it over Mason, and wrapped him up in his arms. They stayed like that for hours, embracing the silence that had only broken by the sounds of crickets chirping and frogs croaking, as well as embracing each other. Mason hadn't said a word, but he had been tempted. He had felt a strong urge that night to come clean and tell Ezra how he feels. It had been an overwhelming sensation of affection, desire, need. 

Love.

He is so utterly fucked.

"I have put on three songs that _should_ have received a snarky comment from you and yet you've said nothing," Ezra says, barely breaking Mason out of his obsessive train of thought, "One of them was from a Croatian Mariachi band and when I asked you if you liked it you just went, 'Uh huh'. You okay?"

"...Mmhmm," Mason manages to get out. It doesn't seem to lessen Ezra's concern. But what is he supposed to do? Confess to Ezra that he's in love with him while driving? Confess that he only feels safe and like the best version of himself when Ezra is there? Confess that his whole body aches from being so overwhelmed by the feelings he has for him to the point that he wants to fucking cry and possibly throw up? Tell him he can't do anything about it if he wants to keep his dad in his life and possibly his mom too? 

He just wants to be happy. Ezra makes him happy. Being with him and having those feelings reciprocated would make him feel a happiness he's never felt before. But Ezra deserves happiness more than Mason does. And Mason knows that he has too much baggage when it comes to his family and his past to make Ezra truly happy, if Ezra ever wanted to be with him in the first place. Maybe that's something he doesn't want. Because while Mason has plenty valid reasons not to say a word, Ezra is out to everyone and doesn't care what people think. He usually is pretty open about stuff. If he has felt anything remotely close to what Mason is feeling, then he would have said something by now, right?

"Do you wanna switch?" Ezra asks, turning in his seat to get a better look at him, "I really don't mind driving. I get that you're worried that I might be tired but that's my baseline. You're completely dissociating right now. Is everything-"

"Tired shouldn't be your baseline," Mason says, finally snapping out of it, "You deserve a lot better than that."

Ezra doesn't seem to know where he's coming from and it takes the man a few seconds to clear his throat, "...Well, I have to work. I'm on scholarships and that's great but they only cover so much. I can't afford the stuff that most of the students can. My parents can't either. I usually send them money every few months or so."

"You…" Mason starts, feeling a pang in his chest, "Ezra, you know that's not normally how it goes, right? You’re working yourself into the ground-"

"They’re my family," Ezra interrupts quietly, "They have never asked me for money once and get upset when I send something to them or pay one of their bills. They wouldn’t cash the checks I sent them so I began sending them cash. Risky, but whatever. My dad can't really work much because my uncle needs someone with him. My grandma can’t handle being around my uncle, it hurts her too much, so my dad does it. We can't afford to pay an aide to stay at the house and we can't afford to put him in some long-term psychiatric facility, not that we would. I mean, my dad does woodwork that my mom sells at the store so it isn't like his life revolves around my uncle, but he used to work on jobs that were contracted. They need help. I want to help them. I'm not there to do it in person like I used to be so this is the only way I know how."

"...I know," Mason eventually says, "I know you want to help them. But you work so much and it's not fair, especially when there are a lot shittier people who don't have to do shit in order to stay here."

"Wealth disparity isn't fair. I agree," Ezra says, looking confused but also a little amused, "Is _that_ why you were off in your head? Because you were upset about me?"

Yes. No, but yes. Where is Mason even supposed to start with that?

"You deserve a lot better," Mason says quietly, "I'm not talking about your family. I know they're great people. I mean your situation. You deserve everything."

Ezra doesn't seem to know what to say to that and the silence almost starts to make Mason wince when Ezra bursts into laughter.

"I'm being serious," Mason insists, feeling ridiculously hurt that Ezra isn't giving him the same courtesy.

"I know you are," Ezra says, wiping his eyes, "And your adorable face looking so sad is so cute."

"I'm not _adorable_ -"

"Oh, but you are. You are adorable," Ezra insists, "This conversation actually reminds me of the time we ate pot brownies-"

"Which time?" Mason asks, feeling a nervous knot form in his gut, "That's happened a few times.”

"When your surprise party was over and everyone finally left, only for the brownies to kick in like twenty minutes later," Ezra clarifies, which has Mason's heart beating faster, "I was thanking you profusely and you started insisting that I deserved everything good before you started crying - no, _weeping_ \- over that-"

"I don't remember that at all," Mason says, wincing.

"Liar," Ezra dismisses, "You shouldn’t be ashamed that you cried. The brownie was minutes away from kicking in and you drank a bunch of margaritas before that. You know how you get with tequila. But then I started crying because you were crying. So I started hugging you and said 'You're my best friend. But you said, 'No, you're my best friend.' Then that became an argument, who was the other's best friend - as if it could never be mutual. That fight was your fault, by the way. You totally started it. I'm not sure why you made it become an argument, but you did and you succeeded. But I couldn’t stay mad at you, because you’re so adorable and cute and because the brownie changed your whole demeanor mid fight. So then we held each other on the couch and you started rubbing your face against my shirt saying it felt nice and we went to my room."

Ezra not mentioning them kissing each other's faces and jerking off in bed together is telling. Maybe Ezra doesn't remember. Or maybe he does but it hadn't meant anything to Ezra all while it had meant everything to Mason. Whatever the reason is, it both relieves Mason and hurts him simultaneously. 

"There was uh…" Mason starts, trying to keep himself from saying more than he should, "There was probably something else in those brownies."

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Ezra says, "The way we kept obsessively touching and hugging each other made me think it might have been ecstacy. I chewed Ryan out for it, even though he insisted that's what the love potion strain does. I don't know whether to believe him or not."

"Well...it apparently didn't kill us," Mason says, "So that's good." 

"Yes, I'm thrilled not to be dead," Ezra agrees, "It would have been a stupidly annoying way to die, drug brownies gone wrong. Very college frat boy style. I mean, people might expect it out of you, but me? I need to go out much better than that."

"I'd rather you didn't," Mason says softly, not really meaning to change the whole tone of the conversation but doing so anyway, "Which is why I feel like my concern of you working yourself into the ground is absolutely valid."

Ezra lets out a breath then reclines the passenger seat back before putting his sunglasses on, "Well, I have five days off. Five whole days. Other than a couple of visits back home, I don't think I have had five days off in a row since I was 15 and my parents took me on my first and only vacation for the first part of my summer break."

"That's extremely sad. You know that's upsetting, right?"

Ezra doesn't say anything for a moment and suddenly Mason wishes that he wasn't driving and Ezra didn't have the sunglasses on because something about the moment feels off. It feels like Mason touched a nerve and Ezra doesn't want to say which one.

"...You have no idea," Ezra ends up saying quietly, "But I'm going to try my best to enjoy myself. If I start waiting on you all, it's purely muscle memory and trauma induced. Try to redirect me." 

Mason nods before patting Ezra on the knee, "I will."

\------------------

When they arrive at the lake house and walk up the steps to the deck, the smell of barbeque and fried meat hits them before they even see anyone. As soon as they turn the corner, they see Charmaine grilling away, platters of corn on the cob, baked potatoes, vegetable skewers, asparagus, and mushrooms already cooked and set aside while the meat continues to sizzle against the grate. Mason stands back as Ezra approaches Charmaine, looking as if he might die if he doesn't get something to eat in the next thirty seconds. 

"If you are doing your vegetarian thing again, then your food is ready," Charmaine says as they watch Ezra already helping himself, "But I can assume you have given that up with the way you are eyeing the salmon."

"As I've explained before, I am not a vegetarian," Ezra says, biting off a vegetable from the skewer, "I am simply mindful about the meat that I eat. I only eat it when I've killed it myself-"

"Which is never because you have to make sure you're scheduled off at Molly's whenever they have the lobster special," Mason says.

"They scream, Mason!" Ezra says loudly, turning around to meet his eyes before taking another bite, "And don't try to school me on them not having vocal chords. I know it comes from their bodies expanding. But that sounds fucking painful! Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted, I only eat meat when I've killed it myself, it's a special occasion, or it smells really, really good and I can't help myself."

Charmaine bites back a laugh, "And I'm guessing this time it's the third reason."

"And the second," Ezra shrugs, still chowing down on vegetables, "As Mason pointed out in the car, I have five days off. That hasn't happened in a long time."

Charmaine nods, "You do deserve it then. You work hard, baby. Everything should be ready soon. Everyone else is sitting on the side deck. You'll find them if you turn the corner there."

"You want anyone to take over so that you can take a break?" Mason asks, but Charmaine waves him off.

"I'll be fine," Charmaine says, before pointing their tongs at the platters, "Just take a couple of plates with you so I don't have to carry everything. Ezra, you just relax. Like I said, you deserve it."

Mason follows Ezra to the side deck, where everyone else has gathered around a large rectangular patio table. As soon as they're spotted, Zane and Yas move over a seat, leaving two empty seats next to each other. It's as if it's just expected and accepted that Mason and Ezra will want to sit together even though they sat next to each other for two hours. They wouldn't be wrong, if that's what they are thinking. Mason does want to sit next to Ezra. He wants to feel their elbows brush together due to Ezra sitting to the right side of him despite being left handed. That's an incredibly weird thing to want. There are probably weirder things, but it's pretty fucking specific and strange.

"We're going swimming after we eat. You guys should get changed into your trunks," Pedro says as he stands up to get a skewer. He pointedly bends over by Ezra, wanting to be noticed by him while he gives the man a once over. Mason has mixed feelings about Pedro. Standing at no taller than 5'3", Mason has about nine inches on him while Ezra has eleven, but Pedro thrives in his petiteness. He always has an even golden bronze tone, a bright, abnormally white smile, and Mason is pretty sure he waxes everything but his head. In other words, there's a picture of Pedro in the dictionary next to the word 'twink'. He is extremely flirtatious, but not in the sweet, fun, and tastefully subtle way Ezra can be. Pedro is just annoying. 

"Why so close, Pedro?" Ezra asks, snapping Mason back to the present. Pedro begins to walk back around the table, perking ass out ever so slightly as he gives Ezra a wink.

"Just giving you a glimpse of what you're missing, Daddy," Pedro purrs. Okay. Mason's feelings on Pedro aren't all that mixed right now. 

Thankfully, Ezra doesn't look all that impressed either, "I am less than a year older than you. I doubt I've reached 'Daddy' status."

Pedro shrugs, unaffected by the claim, "You can be my stud then, since I'm not the baby of the group. Mason, however-"

"Alright, who wants a dead animal?" Charmaine says, interrupting whatever Pedro was about to say. Thank God.

Lunch is uneventful after that. The only thing Mason notices is that Pedro is eyeing him as much as he is eyeing Ezra.

When they let their meals settle in their stomachs and everyone is ready to head down to the lake, Ezra and Mason go down the steps to the entrance of the basement suite to get settled in. Ezra calls dibs on the bathroom while Mason changes into his trunks in the bedroom. It isn't until his shirt is off that he realizes something. He's never been shirtless in front of Ezra. Ever. The thought is bizarre, considering how many times they've slept in the same bed in the last couple of weeks, and considering the heads of their dicks have touched. But Mason hasn't actually _seen_ Ezra without clothes, except for a shirtless scene in Angels in America and Mason but he and Zane had been sitting near the back for that so it isn't like it had been up close. 

Mason turns to look in the full length mirror to inspect himself. He's attractive enough, he thinks. He has a good body. He's fit from playing sports and usually eats okay. He isn't a body builder and he doesn't have some sort of bulging six pack but the definition is there. Nothing for anyone to be disgusted by, especially Ezra, who isn't disgusted by anyone's appearance. Personalities are a different story. A week ago, they went to a bar and Mason had to encourage Ezra to walk away after he came to the defense of the bartender who was being horrifically harassed by some drunken asshole because she had a little extra weight. Things escalated and Ezra was about ready to fight the guy before Mason pulled him away. It had been a strange night, stranger when he found out that Ezra had never gotten into a physical confrontation with anyone except for when he got jumped his freshman year and with his ex-agent. When Mason asked what had gotten into him, Ezra hadn't wanted to talk about it, then pleaded with Mason to stay the night when they got to the apartment, as if he needed to ask more than once. Mason had held Ezra the whole night. 

Mason stops looking at himself. He suddenly realizes how stupid and borderline insulting it is to think that Ezra would be critical over how easily he can count Mason's abs. He doesn't know why he's expecting the worst. He wouldn't do that shit to Ezra.

Although, Mason does have to force himself not to check Ezra out once he enters the bedroom. Why did he have to stop being straight for one fucking guy? He's changed in locker rooms with guys from middle school onwards and never once had an issue. Any curiosities were vague, general, and very occasionally looked up on porn sites as a teenager before he switched back to the straight section. Those had been meaningless guys behind a screen. Mason hadn't known them or cared about them. They had no idea Mason existed. He maybe jerked off ONCE as a teenager to a gay scene. He had felt guilty after, thanked every potential deity that his dad hadn't walked in, wondered if he had done it because of what happened before, if he was somehow permanently screwed up, then didn't do it again for a long time. But with Ezra, it's different. He's not some porn star. Mason knows him and he knows him well. They have started sharing a bed together on the nights they are at Ezra's apartment. When Mason does happen to be alone at night and he does resort to porn over his own imagination, he solely watches gay porn. The men fucking away don't do anything for him that the people in straight porn wouldn't, but when Mason imagines doing the same thing with Ezra, he comes harder than he ever did before he met the guy. It doesn't matter who is in which position in Mason's head. Mason gets off either way. Despite his experimentation down there only happening more recently, Mason might actually imagine Ezra as the top more since he has been specifically told Ezra's so fucking good at it. He knows he’s looked up plenty on how to prepare for it, what to do. Imagining doing those things in preparation to have Ezra’s dick in him has led him to practice and it’s fucked up, considering he isn’t even sure Ezra sees him like that.

And now, Ezra is right in front of him - without a shirt - his black, wavy hair looking tussled, his skin possibly looking tanner than when he first met him, maybe due to it being summer or maybe because of the light. He has a little bit of chest hair, more than Mason has but not a lot. He has a little more definition than Mason and is just slightly leaner. 

He's so fucking hot. With the exceptions of some recent sexual fantasies, most of his thoughts regarding his feelings for Ezra have been emotional and romantic, borderline or downright sappy. Now, all he wants to do is push Ezra against the wall, smash their lips together, and kiss until they fall into bed. Mason's going to go crazy.

"Can you put some sunscreen on my back?" Ezra asks, glancing back at him.

He is going to go fucking crazy. 

Mason walks over to Ezra and takes the bottle from him with shaky hands, squirting the sunscreen into his palm and rubbing it between his hands slightly before putting them on Ezra's back to massage the lotion into his skin. He doesn't know why he's having to do everything to keep himself from going into a panic. He's touched Ezra before, held him, and vice versa. There was just a piece of material acting as a barrier. Now, there's not.

"I think I'm covered," Ezra says, sounding amused as Mason quickly drops his hands down to his sides, "Your turn."

"I'm okay-" Mason starts but Ezra gives him a look.

"I'd rather you not develop skin cancer by the time you're 25," Ezra says, leading Mason over to the edge of the bed to gently push him down into a seated position, "Or be uncomfortable for the rest of the trip because you got burned on the first day. I put it on because I don't want some weird, suspicious mole developing years down the road, but I don't really burn easily. You are a porcelain prince. With your dark hair and bright blue eyes, it's a very striking look. I hands down approve of it. But I can already see your fate without preventative measures."

"A porcelain prince?" Mason manages to get out as Ezra climbs behind him, a cool sensation hitting him when Ezra squirts the sunscreen on his back, followed by the warm sensation of Ezra's hands rubbing his skin in a circular motion, "Do you hear some of the words that come out of your mouth?"

"Not all of the time, no," Ezra says before Mason feels Ezra's lips close to his ear, "Sometimes that gets me into trouble."

Mason feels a shudder travel through his body before he gulps, "Not surprised."

Mason feels Ezra make a shrugging motion as he continues to massage Mason's skin. Mason lets out a shaky breath and puts his head in his hands, trying to both ignore the sensation of Ezra's hands and relish in it, in case he doesn't feel anything like it again. He tries to both ignore the feelings it ignites in him but also identify them. The only resolve he has that isn't conflicted is that he does NOT want a boner, not now, not in fucking swim trunks. He'd never get over it, not with the way Ezra's hands have been touching him and how easy it would be to connect the dots. It wouldn't be the first time either of them have gotten hard in front of the other. They've slept in the same bed several times in the last few weeks. But those hard ons could be dismissed. That shit is normal to wake up to and could be laughed off. This couldn't. So he tries to think of the most unsexy things possible. Naked grandmothers, dead grandmothers, Pennywise jerking off his clown dick in the corner of the room all while pointing at him and laughing, Craig Taylor ripping up Mason's adoption papers, saying that Mason is dead to him.

Okay, that's better.

"You feel tense," Ezra says, his hands moving up to Mason's shoulders to give them a squeeze, "You good?"

Mason forces himself to nod before reaching up to pat Ezra's right hand on his shoulder, "Yeah, I'm fine." 

Whether Ezra believes him or not, he doesn't know. All Ezra does is toss him the bottle of sunscreen back and order him to lather up. 

The walk down to the dock is uneventful and Mason is mostly over his gay freakout by the time their feet hit the wooden planks. Ezra, acting pretty on brand, runs down the long rectangular dock and cannonballs into the lake without checking the depth or temperature. He just goes for it like he does most things in life. Mason wants to try to do the same, live like that even though that really isn't him. Everyone else is already out on the two level pontoon boat at least 100 feet out, apparently expecting them to swim over and meet them there. But Ezra is waiting for him, patiently floating in the water, as Mason puts their towels, sunglasses, and sunscreen on the bench.

"Mason!" Ezra calls out, his patient demeanor leaving relatively quickly, "Come on!"

Mason sighs and walks down the dock like a normal person before standing at the edge to look at Ezra, "How deep is it?"

Ezra rolls his eyes, "What does that matter? I jumped in, stretched my legs out underwater, and didn't touch the bottom. Why? Wait, can you swim? You know it's a graduation requirement to pass a swimming test at Dartmouth, right? Jump in! Let me teach you!"

"I know how to swim," Mason says, scoffing in amusement, "I used to swim with my sister constantly. So move aside unless you want me to splash you."

"I want you to," Ezra says, like the weirdo he is. Fine, then.

Mason jumps into the water, going deeper until the sun can barely be seen before swimming forward while still several feet under for as long as possible until he needs to come up for air. He takes a big gulp for air as soon as he breaks through the surface at least 35 feet away. The first thing he hears when the water drains from his ears are Ezra's sputters of outrage. 

"You dick!" Ezra yells, "I thought you fucking drowned! Asshole! I was going underwater to look for you and everything!" 

"Sorry!" Mason calls out, not really all that sorry until Ezra quickly freestyles over to him and dunks him.

"Don't _do_ that," Ezra says insistently when Mason comes back up. Mason just raises an eyebrow.

"What, you missed me in my thirty seconds of absence?"

" _Yes_ ," Ezra says, glaring. Mason just gives him a look, then dunks Ezra in retaliation. He does it gently. It's almost as if Ezra lets him before a playful battle starts and Ezra's stress turns into laughter. 

"Are you two going to drown each other or fuck? I can't tell!" Deirdre calls out before wagging a beer back and forth, "Come up on the boat! Get a drink!"

"But there is a limit!" Charmaine insists, coming into view, "No one is getting drunk off their ass and drowning on my watch! My parents would kill me!"

Mason and Ezra swim alongside each other after that, Mason making it just a second or two before to the boat and lifting himself onto it before holding out a hand to help Ezra up. Ezra pats Mason's shoulder affectionately before strutting over to the cooler to grab two drinks and exchanges a few words with the group while Mason sits on the edge of the floating boat and looks at the view until Ezra joins him a few minutes later.

"Got you a drink," Ezra says, handing over a beer, "Gotta corrupt you while you're still under 21."

"You still have another eight and a half months," Mason says, taking the beer, seeing that the cap is already popped off. He is normally paranoid about that kind of crap, scared at the thought of being roofied. Molly was roofied once, her sophomore year. Hazel came to her rescue, just as Molly had come to his when he was fifteen. It had been another thing Molly told him when she stayed with him for a few days his freshman year, probably her way of giving him a cautionary tale since he was fresh meat and partying more than he probably should have. But Ezra would never do something like that. Mason knows that with all of his being, so he takes a sip. 

"Plenty of time," Ezra agrees, "21 is probably the last exciting birthday. I turn 23 in five months."

"Oh man, I always forget that you're a senior citizen," Mason teases, but then knocks his shoulder with his, "I'll make sure it's good, just like you made sure my 20th was good."

"Hm," Ezra acknowledges, "Can't take me up in a balloon though. You need to be original. Might have to spring for a plane, or at least a bungee cord. No need for an instructor. You can just buy one at the hardware store and we'll find a cliff somewhere. That would be cheaper, thus better."

Mason shakes his head in laughter and then turns his head to say something, but he is stopped by the sight of Ezra's side. He doesn't know what causes him to look down but peeking out from behind Ezra's left arm is a scar, one he hadn't spotted during his internal crisis before. Without even thinking, he moves Ezra's arm out of the way to get a better look. Sure enough, there is a diagonal scar going from beneath Ezra's to a few inches away from his navel. It's faded and isn't sunken in or raised or even red. In all honesty, it probably healed very well. But still, it's there. 

"Yeah," Ezra says, glancing down at the scar as well, "Not all that pretty, is it?"

Mason doesn't know what to say to that. The scar isn't pretty, not many scars are. But Ezra himself is beautiful. Every part about him is. But Mason can't say that and seeing the scar pisses Mason off. This isn't just an in and out stab wound. They likely stabbed him on the left side of his stomach since the line is at its thickest there. They must have let the knife drag or Ezra struggled, causing the knife to slice diagonally up. 

"Two of the guys held me back," Ezra says, tracing a finger over the scar tissue. The other four took turns punching me. I managed to kick one and forced myself to drop out of their hold. One of the guys came at me with a knife while I was doing that, stabbed me here. He didn't get in far enough to damage any organs because I shoved him as hard as I could and turned to my side. When I did that, the knife dragged."

"Jesus," Mason says under his breath, letting out a growl, "Those _motherfuckers_."

"It really wasn't that bad," Ezra says, "The bleeding was terrible, they probably thought they killed me since they all freaked out and ran. Honestly, if the knife hadn't come into play, they probably would have continued to beat me until I had a lot more injuries. Blessing in disguise, I guess."

"If you think a blessing in disguise is getting stabbed-" Mason says, the words getting cut off when his voice becomes choked. He chooses to just look away instead, at the serene view of the lake and the docks out in the distance. He only turns back around when Ezra takes his hand and Mason feels his fingers on Ezra's bare stomach.

"See?" Ezra says, having Mason trace his scar, "No keloids, no big difference in texture. I'm not too upset about it."

"Well, I am."

Ezra looks up from the scar to meet Mason's eyes, "About a scar?"

Mason shakes his head, "About what caused it and how they didn't end up in jail or dead. I don't give a shit about the scar. The scar could be across your face and I would still feel the same way about you."

Ezra nods and takes a breath, "...And what way is that?"

Ezra doesn't look away when he says it. He doesn't tack on a follow up question or say anything else. For what feels like forever, Ezra just continues to look at him and Mason continues to stare right back. This probably should be the moment of truth, where Mason admits everything. The opportunity to tell Ezra how he feels is right here.

"Shots, ladies! You both have to do one, especially with the two of you sitting with each other in your little corner of the boat, ignoring us all. No exceptions!"

Pedro comes dancing over with two shot glasses to give them and suddenly Mason is extremely grateful for Pedro, whether Pedro is potential competition when it comes to Ezra or not. Mason's expression must come off as relieved as he takes the shot glass from Pedro's hand because he can hear Pedro say, "Damn, baby, let me know if you want another, okay?" 

"I'm good," Mason says, "I wanna swim."

And then, thanks to Pedro, he jumps off the boat. When Mason comes to the surface and turns around, Ezra is no longer looking at him. Instead, Ezra is watching Pedro walk back over to Charmaine, inexplicably looking like he wants to kill him.

\----------------------

The rest of the day is spent on the water, maintaining a fun buzz. Ezra doesn't get to revisit the conversation with Mason that Pedro interrupted. There is no way to bring it into the fold without it being awkward. It probably hadn't been the best time to try a conversation like that, even with the opportunity presenting itself. Ezra knows that the whole feelings conversation needs to happen when it is just the two of them. But with Mason saying what he had, Ezra couldn't help himself. Apparently Mason hadn't wanted to answer, whether it had been due to nerves or due to guilt for not feeling the same way Ezra does. Regardless, it made Mason down that shot pretty quickly. It made him jump off the fucking boat. 

Mason swam back after a few minutes though. So it isn't like he just left. Now, all of the tension from the conversation is gone and they even go tubing in a two seater together when Charmaine speeds up the pontoon boat. The fun gets them back to normal and they swim, talk, and remain glued at the hip which is becoming more and more their baseline. When evening hits, they lounge on the second level of the boat next to each other on the cushioned seats while everyone else is on the first - more out of exhaustion from the day rather than out of romantic need - and look at the sky. It reminds Ezra of when he took Mason to State Isle Park in Vermont and had done the same thing. He had never done something that romantic for anyone, even the people he dated for more than a month. It's why Ezra feels Mason has to know that Ezra has feelings for him. There should be no doubt in Mason's mind that any romantic feelings he might have would be reciprocated and then some by Ezra. So, logically, the only reason Mason didn't say anything would have been because of guilt. Guilt that he doesn't feel the same way that Ezra does. Guilt over not wanting to hurt Ezra's feelings. But why would Mason lie next to him and look at the stars with him? Why did he let Ezra hold him on that beach? Why do they continue to hold each other in bed? Is Ezra forcing him? He doesn't want to force him. The thought of forcing physical affection on Mason makes him feel sick, so sick that he has to scoot away from his friend and give him space.

"Why'd you move?" Mason asks immediately, looking hurt over Ezra's decision. When Ezra moves back to his original spot, Mason looks confused, but satisfied. He even lets his fingers tap along the back of Ezra's hand until Ezra opens it and their fingers interlace. Mason's head finds its way to Ezra's shoulder so Ezra hesitantly lets his cheek rest on top of Mason's head.

Okay, then. Apparently Ezra isn't forcing him.

Then why can't Mason just tell him what is going on? Why can't this weird limbo phase end, whether it's because they become a couple or they decide to stay friends? Ezra would obviously prefer the former but he would be willing to be friend zoned if that's what Mason wanted. He might need some time and space for a little bit so that he can nurse his wounds and cry into his pillow until it's soaked, but he loves Mason - romantically but also as a best friend. Ezra doesn't think he could keep up the physical affection if they only stayed friends, not to this level, but he knows that he wants Mason in his life however he can have him. 

But he REALLY wants more than that. 

He is dying inside, feeling so unsure but suspicious of one thing only to think the next. He's dying inside because Mason's bare skin is against his own and he wants to touch and feel him more privately, more extensively. He wants to feel Mason's lips against his before Ezra kisses down his neck and shoulder. He wants to be sweet and loving towards Mason's body, kiss his way down Mason's stomach and glance up to see if he's good with Ezra pulling his trunks down. He wants to feel Mason's cock in his mouth and taste it, he wants to make Mason moan for more and part of Ezra would want to be sweet with him, give him what he needs. And then the other part would want to stop being sweet. That part wants to grind their bare cocks together to tease him like Ezra feels teased right now. 

He needs to fucking stop. He's already feeling and seeing his hard-on forming and his and Mason's interlaced hands are resting just a couple of inches away from his dick. He thinks Mason has his eyes closed. Ezra hopes he does. Mason's tired. Ezra would be too if he wasn't having an internal meltdown driven by confusion and horniness. He has to chill the fuck out. He really does want to enjoy this getaway. 

He had been telling the truth when he said he had only gone on one vacation in his life. His parents probably put money aside for years. It had been a lot longer than five days. They drove out to California and spent the first week in Los Angeles and actually stayed at a decent hotel. They did all of the Hollywood stuff, saw a play, went to Knott's Berry Farm. His parents actually enrolled him in a three day acting crash course for teens to show their support, so Ezra had gotten to experience that. Then his parents surprised him by driving him up to San Francisco for Pride. That had been fucking amazing and it made him love them immensely, more immensely than he already had. After a few days in San Francisco, he and his parents started driving back to Pine Ridge only for them to tell him that Mika would be coming in that they could all drive to Wisconsin Dells, Wisconsin - apparently the waterpark capital of the world. His aunt and uncle had been saving up too. They had been so excited to see their daughter. She had just wrapped up on this amazing opportunity to work a full month with a linguistics professor from Columbia. He had wanted to work to offer fellowships to Native students specifically so that they could work on language preservation with him and apparently Mika really liked the guy. So much that she barely ever answered her texts and calls during that time. She stopped answering them all together the last few days of the fellowship but everyone thought she had been cramming, proving herself since she had been the youngest to be offered a position out of everyone chosen. But when the day came for her to fly in from Salt Lake City into Rapid City, she never showed up. They had waited and called, nothing. They called the school and the school called Professor Hall. The guy had gone back to New York and said he hadn't seen Mika since a few nights before he left. He even reached out to his aunt and uncle to check in, to see if anyone had heard anything, to let them know how sorry he was that this was happening. 

He had hated him. Ezra still fucking hates him. He had known something was off with him. When he found out how off, he had wanted to kill Victor Hall but he had already been killed by the time the truth came out about him.

"Hey," Mason says softly, briefly waving a hand in front of his face, "They're parking the boat."

Ezra glances at Mason and then sits up, running a hand down his face as Mason watches him closely.

"You good?" Mason asks, sounding worried.

Ezra forces himself to let out a chuckle, "Yeah. Just went off in my head. Pulled a Mason."

Mason scoffs, "I don't do it _that_ much."

"Yeah, whatever you say," Ezra says, trying to stay present, to not dwell on shit and focus on Mason instead now that Ezra probably has the opposite of a boner.

When they get back to the house, everyone is hungry again from swimming but none of them feel like making a meal and Charmaine made plenty of food for lunch, so they all take turns heating up their plates in the microwave and just have that for dinner instead. Ezra doesn't put much on his. He doesn't feel like stuffing himself and the amount he does put on his plate barely gets eaten anyway. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Mason asks again, scrutinizing Ezra's plate before searching Ezra's face, "You would usually have three times that amount."

Ezra lets out a huff, "Uh...yeah. Just tired, probably. Maybe I will just take a shower and go to bed early." 

Deirdre looks extremely put off by the idea and immediately starts shaking her head, "But we have plans! We were going to play games! Taboo, Trivial Pursuit, _Truth or Dare_ , _Spin the BOTTLE_."

The enunciation Deirdre puts on the last two games is fucking ridiculous. Her eye is practically twitching and Ezra can't help but roll his eyes. 

"You look like you're about to burst a vessel," he informs her, before standing up, "Have fun without me."

"But you're literally the BEST at Spin the Bottle and Truth or Dare!" Yas insists, "You're always willing to make out with anyone and it always causes drama! It's so much fun when you play."

"Oh right, I get punched by your ex for making out with her new girlfriend one time, and suddenly _I_ have a reputation! I can't help it if I turned her on and she didn't want to stop!" Ezra says dramatically, but then waves them off, "Goodnight! Love you guys!"

"Even Hallie is still awake!" Deirdre says, gesturing at Hallie desperately, causing her to look up.

"Wait, I can go to bed?" Hallie asks, looking up at Ezra with hope, "You're going to bed so I am definitely going to bed. I need to be alone. I feel overstimulated and I hate people when I am around them too long. Ezra, you know this. You understand."

"You live your life however you choose, girlfriend," Ezra says, managing to run his fingers through Hallie's hair a few times before she runs off to her bedroom. He's going to miss her.

Deirdre watches Hallie's disappearing form with disdain before shooting a glare at Ezra, "Goddamn it, Ez."

Ez. Ez. No one has ever really called him that, except for Uncle Chaska. He started saying it after the accident, when his speech had initially been affected. Never really stopped.

Yeah, he needs to go to bed.

"Good night!" Ezra calls out from behind his shoulder as he slides open the door, "Love you guys!"

His routine after that is pretty straight forward. The first thing on his to do list is to get in the shower and jerk off. The thing is, he isn't even in the mood. His methods of getting him out of the mood worked way too well, but he does know that it's possible his feelings will change when Mason is pressed up against him in bed, which has been becoming more and more frequent and Ezra doesn’t see the change of scenery changing that, nor does he want it to. So Ezra forces himself to come in order to take the edge off. It's Mason's legs on his shoulders that he's imagining and Mason's lips against his. He should probably try to imagine someone else. Maybe a woman. Ezra hasn't jerked off to the thought of a woman ever since he met Mason. It's sort of fucked up. Ezra prides himself on being attracted to all genders pretty equally. It _should_ work. But it doesn't. Thinking of another guy doesn't work either. Only the thought of fucking Mason gets him hard and has him shooting against the shower wall. He kind of despises him in that moment, infiltrating his mind like that, but the edge is off so he gets over it. After he brushes his teeth and washes and moisturizes his face, he throws a pair of pajama pants on. He would put a shirt on but it's the middle of July and they have been shirtless in front of each other all day. Mason can deal. Ezra settles down in bed after that and turns on the TV. He doesn't care what's on and the first thing to come onto the screen is shark week so he leaves it there. He just can't do the silence.

Mason comes down sooner that he thinks he will. It isn't even midnight when the door clicks open and he comes into the suite. Ezra watches him silently as Mason watches Shark Week in confusion before turning around to look at Ezra.

"Didn't realize you were a fan of sharks," Mason says, coming over to the bed to sit on the side of it. Ezra probably waits too long to answer, before shrugging.

"They are misunderstood," Ezra says, "They don't even make the top ten most deadly creatures. Dogs kill more humans a year than sharks do. Humans kill a lot more sharks than sharks kill humans. Humans kill a lot more humans too."

Don't think about murder. Stop thinking about murder. 

Mason nods, watching Ezra with inexplicable concern, "They're very misunderstood then."

"Want to drop out of school and picket on the beaches of shark infested waters with me?" Ezra asks. 

"That depends. Which beach?"

"I was thinking…" Ezra says, trying to remember anything that caught his attention throughout the whole program, "A beach on the Gold Coast of Australia."

Mason nods, "Alright, I'll let everyone know I'm leaving Dartmouth as soon as the offices open back up. It's an important cause."

"It is," Ezra agrees, then clears his throat, "You have a good time up there?"

"It was okay," Mason shrugs, "Would have been better with you there."

"That's sweet," Ezra says, stifling a yawn as he burrows under the covers more, "You all play Spin the Bottle? Did you have to kiss anyone?"

"No," Mason says, shaking his head, "I came down in the middle of Truth or Dare. Frankie took off all of her clothes, ran out onto the dock, and jumped into the lake."

"I thought I heard her screaming outside," Ezra says, before shrugging the information off, "So you saw tits. That's always fun. Congrats. What did you choose?"

"Uh...after seeing what they had her do?" Mason asks, "I chose truth."

"Chicken," Ezra teases, looking at Mason affectionately, "What did they have you confess?"

Surprisingly, Mason swallows and looks away, "I didn't want to answer what they asked me. Um...someone else should hear it before they do. They deserve to. So I took a line of shots instead."

Ezra bites his lip and tries to stay indifferent, "That's how they were playing, huh? Tell your truth, do the dare, or drink until you lose your inhibitions?"

"Pretty much."

Ezra nods and nudges Mason with his foot, "You do realize that choosing to drink on truth tends to confirm whatever they were asking, right?" 

"...Yeah," Mason says, sighing, "I am sure it was pretty clear what my answer would have been after I did that. Yas kept wanting to talk to me in the other room, but like I said, I don't want to talk about it with them yet. So I came down here."

"Okay," Ezra says, "Do you want to talk about it with me?"

Mason runs a hand down his face and lets out a shaky exhale, "...Yes. But I'm drunk from that line of shots. To be honest, I was already kind of drunk before I took those. I don't want to say this while I'm drunk, even though it would probably be a lot easier to tell you."

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. Is this it? Is this what Ezra thinks it is? Did the assholes upstairs essentially set Mason up to reveal something one way or another? Does Mason actually have something to reveal to him? 

Despite feeling his heart pounding in his chest, Ezra manages to stay calm. Instead, he sits up, reaches out, and takes Mason's hand in his.

"Go take a shower and do your whole night routine. We were swimming in the lake all day," Ezra says, taking his other hand to run it through Mason's hair, "Drink some water too, and then come to bed. Okay?"

"Okay," Mason rasps out. Ezra really wants to bring Mason closer, kiss his forehead or reassure him or something. But he forces himself to hold back. Mason doesn't want to have this conversation while he's drunk. Ezra is going to respect that and the time Mason apparently needs.

Ezra just lies in bed while Mason is in the bathroom, and the only sounds heard being the dramatic Shark Week musical score, the muffled sound of the shower running, and Ezra's own breathing until his phone pings.

**Deirdre: We asked him if he was in love with anyone in the room. He said no. Pedro used one of his three follow-up lifelines (totally playing that way from now on, it's integral to get people to do or say too much) and asked him if he is in love with anyone in the house. Mason didn't say a word and just did the line of shots instead. So he's either in love with you or he's in love with Hallie. I really don't think it's Hallie.**

Ezra has a myriad of feelings after reading that. First off, he feels terrible that Mason had been put on the spot like that. It's not fair to him at all. But a close second is absolute elation because it's a fucking confirmation. 

But what if it is Hallie? 

Okay, Ezra knows that's dumb. Hallie is gorgeous even if she never accentuates her beauty and is literally repulsed by sex and possibly people in general. While Ezra hopes Hallie finds someone wonderful who truly understands and accepts her, he has a feeling she is always going to be happier alone and that's okay. So if Mason is in love with her, he will probably be a little disappointed.

But logically, Ezra knows that Mason isn't in love with Hallie. He's barely gotten to know Hallie, despite the fact she lives with Ezra. Mason knows a lot about Ezra, maybe not everything - not yet - but a lot of stuff. He knows Ezra's coffee order, he knows what his parents do for a living, he knows that Ezra hates most plays by Shakespeare and would rather do off the wall, newly written plays and indie films over the stuff that gets produced over and over again. Half the time there is something Ezra wants to do or see and Mason has also heard of it, he seems to know Ezra will want to go and will text him to ask when they're going without Ezra saying a word. He spends multiple days a week at the restaurant and always sits in Ezra's section. He never goes if Ezra isn't there. He goes just to see and be around him. He can usually sense when Ezra's upset or wants company. He knows when Ezra wants to be held and when Ezra wants to hold him. Mason had said the truth had been something he couldn't tell the group upstairs because someone else deserved to hear it first, before confirming that he wanted to tell Ezra but wouldn't do it while he's drunk.

Mason had been referring to him. There is literally no other answer. Part of him wants to just shout his own love for Mason as soon as he comes out of the bathroom, get all of this waiting over with and move onto the next phase. But Ezra knows from personal experience that coming out isn't easy. That shit is hard and personal, even when you know for a fact your family will accept you. Mason has a good reason to believe that his father will not only not accept him, but resent him. In hindsight, it's amazing that Mason is as accepting of the LGBTQ community as he is. Ezra just wishes that Mason could embrace what he wants and what makes him happy and if that's Ezra himself, then Ezra is all for that. It might sound conceited for Ezra to think he can do that, but he WANTS to make Mason happy. More than pretty much anything. 

**Ezra: Please give him some time, space, and understanding. I appreciate you all trying to help and it's great to hear that he feels the same, but I don't want him to feel overwhelmed or outed. He needs to do this on his own time and we need to show him love and acceptance because he might not have that at home. No more trying to force us to kiss through a game. That isn't how I want our first kiss to go. If it happens, I want it to be right. And PRIVATE.**

The phone pings not even a minute later.

**Deirdre: Why do you choose to be mature? I don't get it. But fine. I will get the group to respect your wishes and back off a little. And 'if' you guys kiss? IF? Bitch, it's 'when' and you and I both know it. I give it 24 hours MAX especially now that Mason's feelings are out in the open, if not 24 minutes. Pedro is really rooting for you guys, btw. He has embraced his role as villainous ex so idk if I can stop him from interfering. He's super method right now.**

Ezra holds back a groan and types out his response.

**Ezra: Remind Pedro that he is NOT my ex. That fucker interrupted me on the boat when I was close to getting Mason to talk to me about his feelings willingly.**

It takes a few minutes for any response to come but when it does, it isn't from Deirdre. It's from Pedro.

**Pedro: So if I'm NOT your ex, does that mean we are still potentially a thing and can fuck again? ;) Love you, papi!**

Ezra isn't even going to respond to that. He might not even talk to Pedro until the guy gets out of whatever character he has conjured up to fuck with Mason all while supposedly helping him.

After twenty minutes, Mason comes out of the bathroom, only to go over to the small fridge to grab a water bottle, his hair slightly damp and dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants. Apparently, there is a phenomena surrounding grey sweatpants on men. Ezra never understood it. One time he wore a pair to the gym and eight women and three men hit on him. It was fucking ridiculous and while Ezra loves attention, it had almost been too much. But suddenly, he gets it. Mason's ass looks amazing in them and now he really wants to see Mason take them off. He also appreciates leaving something to the imagination. He gets the appeal of that. But he wants to see Mason in nothing even more. He already has his shirt off. Ezra is honestly surprised he left it off, even though that's hypocritical since Ezra also left his shirt off. Does that mean they are both going to sleep in the same bed shirtless? Does that mean-

"Do you uh…" Mason starts, not meeting Ezra's eyes at all, "Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"

Ezra shakes himself out of his thoughts, only to be confused as to where Mason is coming from. He looks so fucking vulnerable and insecure right now and Ezra really hates that their friends got him drunk and put him in the position that they had. They mean well, Ezra gets that, but they should know better than anyone that the coming out process is tough. But as far as Mason knows, Ezra doesn't know what happened, unless he just assumes that one of them would have told Ezra while Mason was in the shower. That actually makes sense, considering that's what happened. Does he think Ezra is going to reject him? Does he think that Ezra doesn’t feel the same exact way? Is Mason seriously that dumb and can't read every single sign Ezra has been sending him for months?

"Why would I want you on the couch?" Ezra asks softly, watching Mason closely from across the room. Mason just shrugs his shoulders and refuses to even glance in his direction. Ezra should honestly just tell him now. Bluntly and in a way that leaves no room for Mason to think it is just Ezra being friendly because apparently everything else hasn’t worked. He should just tell Mason that he’s falling for him. No, fallen. Falling is finished and Ezra is just flopping around on the ground. He should just fucking say it.

But when Ezra opens his mouth, he realizes that he doesn’t want to say this while Mason is drunk either. He doesn’t want one thing to lead to another because Mason’s inhibitions are down. Ezra would definitely put a stop to it. He doesn’t sleep with people less sober than he is. Maybe it wouldn’t happen. Maybe Mason is the type to take things super fucking slow, which is fine. Ezra can do that for him. But he’s not going to risk it. 

“Mason, why would I want you on the couch when we’ve been sleeping in the same bed whenever you stay the night at my apartment?” Ezra tries again. 

“...I don’t know,” Mason gets out, still refusing to look at him. Ezra lets out a sigh and pats the other side of the bed.

“Come to bed,” Ezra tells him gently, “You’re fine. You do not need to be worrying about whatever you are worrying about. I know you don’t want to talk about it right now, but I promise, you are more than okay. I’m never going to reject you coming to sleep next to me. I won’t reject anything else when it comes to you either.”

Mason’s body tenses and he finally meets Ezra’s eyes, “Huh?”

Ezra pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation and pats the bed insistently, “Come to bed!” 

“What does that mean?” Mason asks, sounding almost desperate but finally walks over to the bed. But Ezra stays with his resolve on not talking about this with Mason while he’s drunk so he decides to reach out, grab Mason’s arm, and pull him until he sits down and gets settled underneath the sheet.

“Goodnight,” Ezra whispers, nuzzling into his pillow.

“Ezra, what the fuck does that even mean?” Mason asks insistently, only to pry open one of Ezra’s eyelids when Ezra doesn’t answer. Not fair. That’s Ezra’s annoying thing to do to Mason, not the other way around. Reluctantly, Ezra opens his eyes, only to see Mason staring at him almost in a panic.

“You are drunk,” Ezra says, cupping Mason’s cheek, “You do not want to have this conversation while you are drunk, right? That’s what you said?”

Mason lets out what sounds like a whimper, “...Yes, but you’re being really confusing right now!”

“How am I being confusing?” Ezra laughs, only for Mason to turn away, hide his face into his hands, and sniffle. Ezra lets out a sigh, throws his arms around Mason’s middle - bare skin be damned - and pulls him closer until Mason’s back is pressed against his chest. He feels Mason shiver against him as soon as he does it but there’s no pulling away.

“Did you do shots of tequila?” Ezra has to ask, tucking Mason’s shoulder beneath his chin, “You get insecure and emotional when you drink tequila.”

“I do not,” Mason says, his voice muffled.

“You do too,” Ezra says against Mason’s ear before looking at him fondly and rolling his eyes, “Just relax. Don’t stress about anything, alright? We’re fine. We’re more than fine. Promise. And if you’re stressing about anything else, it will work out.”

“I am, but I’m mainly stressing about you,” Mason says, finally putting his hands down as his voice starts to slur, “No one is as important as you.”

Ezra has to wonder if Mason can feel how hard his heart is beating over the words but tries to keep his cool. The selfish part of him really wants to just pull more out of Mason. It really does. But he’s not going to do that. It would be a dick move and it wouldn’t be right. They’re close now. Really close. Ezra can wait another day or two. Maybe Deirdre was right. It doesn’t seem like they are going to leave this trip without _something_ happening.

“You’re really important to me too,” Ezra says, lying his head back down on the pillow while keeping his arms around Mason, "Just get some sleep, okay? We'll talk more about this when you sleep off your inevitable hangover. If you're ready to, that is. It is long overdue though, so I really hope you are."

"Needs to be right," Mason mumbles, "Like from a movie or a book. A good one. Not a shitty one." 

Ezra runs a hand through Mason's hair to try to soothe him until he closes his eyes, "Well, if you're writing it, it's bound to be good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're getting close. Promise ;) Thanks for reading! I would appreciate any feedback you have!


	10. Late July 2014, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra and Mason finally open up and begin to share their truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for discussions of murder and suicide pertaining to side characters. Another trigger warning for the discussion of a sexual assault that happened to a main character.

Ezra lets Mason sleep well into the afternoon. He wouldn't be the only one. The only people not hungover and trying to sleep it off are him and Hallie. Since Ezra isn't particularly wanting to spend the day in the basement suite, he manages to lure Hallie out of the house. It surprisingly doesn't take a lot of effort. He just tells her how much he loves her and wants to spend a quiet and peaceful hour or two with her on the lake. 

"You can even put your earbuds in and ignore me," he pleads as Hallie looks at him with annoyance, but Ezra feels like it looks a little bit fond.

"...Fine," Hallie ends up saying, tossing her book down to grab her bathing suit and sundress from her bag, "But only because I love you. I am indifferent about almost everyone else here."

"You are so sweet. I love you too," Ezra says, finding a skip in his step as he goes to wait for her out in the living room. He actually isn't being sarcastic when he says he loves Hallie. He really does. She is honestly the ideal roommate in the sense that she keeps to herself and never bothers anyone. In his sophomore year, he had borrowed one of her text books and had forgotten to give it back. She had needed it, walked into his room while he was fucking not one, not two, but THREE people, and had just looked mildly disgusted before reminding them all to pee after they were finished to avoid a UTI. The guy and the two girls in his bed had been embarrassed, but Ezra personally thought it had been hilarious. She looks after him in her own way, just like he tries to look after her when it comes to her sensory issues and people who are less than understanding of her autism diagnosis. Those who aren't are fucking dicks. She just graduated at the top of her class and Ezra may have cried when she went through with her speech on graduation day and actually gave a really fucking good one. 

"Alright, let's start spending quality time together so that we can stop," Hallie says, coming out of the bathroom, taking her normal glasses off for her prescription sunglasses and surprisingly is wearing the bathing suit that Ezra picked out for her.

"Hallie, you look so gorgeous!" He says, jumping up to his feet to spin her around, "Your body is magnificent and your boobs are ridiculously symmetrical. I knew this would look good on you!"

"Okay," Hallie says, not particularly affected by his compliments either which way. She doesn’t need his validation and he respects that. 

They go down to the paddle boat. Ezra initially suggests they bring fishing poles but Hallie gives him a look that gives him the impression she would rather gauge out her eyes with one of the hooks. They don’t go out very far, just enough to see a few of the other houses but still close enough to see the dock. Hallie doesn’t say much on their excursion. It’s fine. She doesn’t really need to. Ezra just wants the company of someone who isn’t unconscious. Watching Mason had been a little nerve wracking. Ezra doesn’t think it had been the sight of Mason itself. It's more the waiting and wondering if there is going to be some sort of big confession tonight or tomorrow. It’s just a lot, being on the cusp of what could be the most significant romantic relationship he’s ever had. 

“So where’s your boyfriend?” Hallie asks, looking out at the water, “I barely see you without him anymore.”

“He’s asleep, just like everyone else,” Ezra says, then realizes his mistake, “And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Huh,” Hallie says, “That makes the lack of physical boundaries you both have even weirder.”

“He’s not my boyfriend _yet_ ,” Ezra adds, feeling like he might be jinxing something, “There are feelings there, definitely on my end and it sounds like on his end. It’s just about working it out and taking that step, I guess.”

“What’s taking you so long?” Hallie asks, “I have seen you screw around with people you’ve just met.”

“He’s different,” Ezra says softly, then clears his throat, “And it’s complicated. I’m not going to talk about what’s going on with him at the house with anyone else. You know how our friends are. But I have no problems telling you because I know you are trustworthy and probably don’t care enough about him to say a word.”

“You’d be right,” Hallie says, but then surprisingly gestures, “But go on.”

“...His dad disowned his older brother for being gay,” Ezra says, sighing, “And his dad is his adoptive father, so I’m sure there are some insecurities there and a need to make him proud. I feel like if that wasn’t a thing, we’d be a thing by now.”

Hallie nods, “Probably so. But dads are assholes. Mine definitely is.”

Ezra looks at her in curiosity, “Now that I’m thinking of it, you’ve never mentioned your parents. Ever. Why’s your dad an asshole?”

Hallie shrugs, “He signed me over to the state after my mom died in the twin towers.”

Ezra feels his heart lurch in his chest, “...Oh my god. Hallie, I had no idea. I am so sorry.”

Hallie seems to think on what to say for a moment then turns her head slightly to look at him, “That’s not the reason he’s the asshole though. I was really hard to handle after that. I was having meltdowns constantly because my mom died.”

“Understandably,” Ezra points out.

“He couldn’t handle it though,” Hallie says, “At all. And the few relatives I had didn’t want to take me in. They thought I was a lost cause or not worth it, I guess. So I grew up in foster homes and youth shelters until I left for college.”

“Well, you fucking proved them wrong,” Ezra tells her, “You get that, right?”

“Yeah,” Hallie says, nodding, “I do get that because when I got coverage and that award for restructuring the language development program at Greenguard, my dad started trying to reach out to me. I think because he heard I developed that app for the kids there. He seemed like he was trying to figure out how much money I was making off of it. I’m surprised he didn’t reach out after my eighteenth birthday when I got an inheritance from my grandfather. Although, that was my mom’s dad and he died before she did. Maybe my dad didn’t know about it.”

Ezra doesn’t really care if Hallie’s dad knew about her inheritance or not, he’s too pissed off at the man in general to give him any kind of credit, “Oh, fuck him! I mean, it sucks that he lost his wife. I can understand him being overwhelmed and needing help or even a break to sort through his own shit, but fuck that. Did you tell him to fuck off?”

Hallie shakes her head, “I just stopped answering. I don’t really care enough about him to tell him to fuck off.”

“Well, sometimes it feels good,” Ezra tells her, “And sometimes it makes things worse...you know you could have talked to me and Deirdre about all of that, right? Like, I am feeling really bad that I didn’t know about any of it until now.”

“It’s not something I talk about. Ever,” Hallie says, before meeting Ezra’s eyes, “You must have triggered me with all of that dad talk. So fuck you, I guess.”

Ezra holds his hands up, “My apologies. Do you need a hug?”

Hallie scoffs, “Oh, get away from me with that shit.”

And then, to prove her point, she jumps off the paddle boat and into the water. What is it with the people in his life jumping off of boats to avoid heart to hearts with him?

“Well,” Ezra calls out when Hallie’s head is above water, “My parents would love you. They love and accept everyone. If I follow you up to New York like I plan to when I graduate, then they can totally adopt you and you can become my sister.”

“Oh, you’re actually going to graduate?” Hallie asks, “When? In three years?”

“No! In like a year and a half!” Ezra says, splashing water at her, “It would have been next Spring but SOMEONE convinced me to do that movie last fall instead of taking a full course load!”

Hallie looks at him like he’s dumb, “Yeah, and it would have been stupid not to do it. Not many shoots come through New Hampshire and the ones that do never audition locals for lead roles. When’s that coming out?”

“It got pushed to January 2016 due to post-production delays,” Ezra sighs, “So we’ll see.”

“Well, you’ll be in New York by then, right? You’ll graduate next December?” Hallie asks, floating in place, “Imagine seeing yourself on screen at the IFC in Greenwich Village. How cool will that be?”

Ezra tries not to get excited by the fantasy but has to agree with her, “Okay, that would be pretty cool. But you’ll have to show me how to get there and where to go, especially if I end up living near some crappy subway line. I only got to explore so much when I was up there last and stayed in Secaucus.”

“Okay, fine,” Hallie says, swimming back to the boat to hold onto it, “I can do that.”

“Which means you’ll have to leave your apartment,” Ezra adds.

Hallie nods, “I figured, since I can’t astral project...yet.”

“Is _that_ what you’ve been working on in your room?” Ezra asks, conspiring as he leans closer, “That’s my girl!”

By the time they head back to the dock it’s around 2:30 pm and they find themselves walking up the steps right behind a pizza delivery guy who is carrying a stack of boxes. Ezra finds himself asking if he needs help because he’s pretty sure the guy can’t see the stairs at all. Between the three of them, they have a light load, although Ezra thinks this amount of pizza is a bit excessive. He has a feeling that it’s Zane’s doing. 

“Yes!” Zane says, sliding open the door, only to wince at his own headache, “Thanks, man. Here’s a tip for you. Ezra, where the fuck have you been?”

“Hallie and I have been out functioning like normal, non-hungover human beings,” Ezra says, making his way inside and into the kitchen while Hallie fills a paper plate up with pizza and runs off to her room, “When did you guys wake up?”

“Some of us haven’t,” Zane says, opening the first box within reach that’s on the counter to grab a slice of pepperoni pizza, “I went down to check on Mason. To see how he was doing physically and...you know, emotionally. Whatever. I prepared myself to walk in and see the worst possible thing but you weren’t there, so that’s good.”

Ezra gives Zane an incredulous look and takes a slice of vegetable pizza, “How is me being down there the worst possible thing? I thought we were starting to tolerate each other.”

Zane lets out a huff, then takes a huge bite, “I didn’t mean it like that. I just didn’t want to walk in on anything...you know, intimate.”

Ezra holds back a laugh, “Look at you, trying to be appropriate all of the sudden.”

“Anyway,” Zane says pointedly, “He’s still down in the suite. He’s awake, but don’t let any light into the room or he’ll become an asshole. Do you uh...Do you want to take him down a plate of food? He’ll probably feel better after he eats.”

Ezra thinks on it for a moment, then shakes his head, “You probably know, but Deirdre texted me and told me what happened up here last night. I hate all of you for doing that to him, by the way.”

“It wasn’t my idea,” Zane says defensively, “It was mainly Pedro, Deirdre, Jessie, and Frankie. Charmaine, Yas, and I didn’t think he should be put on the spot like that in front of EVERYONE and I don’t think Giovanni cared either way. I tried talking to Mason once before he went downstairs but he refused. I even offered to take him into my and Yas’s room so it would be private. Yas did the same, multiple times. I felt really bad. I mean, I want him to get past whatever is blocking him from being with you because being with you is obviously what would make him happy. Until that party, we all thought you were together, so it was surprising to find out that hasn't happened yet, especially with how touchy feely you both got that night. I thought I could maybe get him to talk to me about it last night, I can't force him. That wouldn’t do any good.”

“That’s…” Ezra starts but then has to pat Zane’s shoulder, “That’s surprisingly thoughtful of you. Somewhat out of character, but maybe you are more complex than I thought. I do think he needs to hear that kind of acceptance from someone he’s close with. So maybe _you_ should take him down a plate and let him know that. Subtly, but clearly and compassionately.”

Zane looks put off by the idea but Ezra starts picking up a couple of slices of pizza for Mason and puts them on a paper plate.

“I don’t think it’s going to do much good,” Zane says, glancing down at the plate Ezra just put in his hands, “He didn’t want to talk to me about it last night.”

“That’s different,” Ezra says, “Last night, he was bombarded and was really overwhelmed. Now, he is too hungover to feel overwhelmed and you’re not going to do it in a way that forces him to talk. Just let him know that you care about him no matter what and want him to be happy. That’s it. That’s all you need to say. Nothing else unless he initiates a conversation.”

\------------------------

Mason is underneath the blankets when he hears the door open. Even with the cotton mouth and the awful migraine, Mason prepares himself for it to be Ezra. He may have been drunk last night, but he remembers everything. Too well. He’s still completely confused, not about his feelings, but about Ezra’s. He has no idea what kind of conversation they had last night or even if they had been talking about the same thing. Mason just knows that Ezra is right. Tequila does make him emotional and insecure and that had led to him almost revealing everything. He came really fucking close. But he’s not one hundred percent sure what Ezra had been trying to say. He was probably just trying to get Mason to relax and now Mason is going to have to face him. 

But not right this second, because as soon as the person who walked in makes a sound, Mason knows the voice immediately. 

“So uh…” Mason hears Zane start as soon as he puts a plate of food down on the end table, “I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need to talk. You don’t have to talk, not if you don’t want to. But if you don’t want to, I think you should know that um...I care about you. A lot. And I want you to be happy...however that may be.”

Mason freezes underneath the covers and tries to process Zane’s words, he does. He supposes he’s touched? Or at least he should be? He doesn’t feel touched. He honestly just feels annoyed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mason asks, finally sitting up to look at a confused Zane, ignoring the pounding in his skull, “That’s what I fucking get? That’s what’s going to happen from now on? Awkward ‘I accept you’ bullshit speeches, if I’m lucky? You sure as hell won’t have to fall victim to those, will you? Kinsey 0 bastard.”

Mason throws himself back onto the bed and covers his head underneath the covers as Zane tries to dissect whatever the fuck Mason threw at him.

“...A thank you would have sufficed, you know!” Zane ends up saying, “And it’s not bullshit! I am telling the truth. Like I said, you don’t have to talk about it and if you want to keep everything on the DL, I get it. My lips are sealed. I’m just putting it out there so you don’t feel like you have to hide shit from me.”

Mason forces himself not to scream, clenches his fists, and lets out a breath, “Noted. Thanks, I guess.”

Zane scoffs, “You’re welcome, I guess. We’re all upstairs. If you don’t want to join now, that’s fine, but we’ll probably pump up a bunch of the rafts in the shed and go out on the lake in a few hours. We’d all like to see you there. If anyone tries to get pushy about anything, just yell at them like you yelled at me. They’ll definitely be taken off guard since you’re the quietest one here besides Hallie. Eat your food and drink some water. You’ll be fine.”

Within seconds, Mason hears the door close. He feels anything but ‘fine’ and he knows he won’t feel that way until he and Ezra clear the air and Mason figures out what Ezra is feeling.

\----------------------

Ezra happens to be in the kitchen when everyone else is in the living room. It’s probably a good thing, considering Zane comes through the side door, looking annoyed and pissy about something, which immediately makes him feel alarmed. If Zane decided to go off script and pressure Mason, Ezra is not going to be happy. Because that’s the only thing Ezra can think of that would make Zane look that way, considering the context. The only other thing would be that Zane lied to him and told Mason off or something but Ezra really doesn’t think Zane would be conniving enough to come off as accepting and concerned to Ezra, only to go down and be a dick to Mason. 

“What did you do?” Ezra says anyway, only to get a glare from Zane before the man stomps over.

“I said what you told me to say and he went on some rant!” Zane hisses, “I expected to go down there, tell him that sappy shit, only to get nothing or a thank you in response. But no. Dude flipped out at me.”

Ezra blinks then tries to get Zane to back up, “Wait, wait, Mason doesn’t flip out at people unless they truly deserve it. What did you say?”

“What you told me to say,” Zane says slowly, as if Ezra hadn’t heard him the first time, “I said that he didn’t have to talk if he didn’t want to, but that I wanted to let him know that I cared about him and wanted him to be happy, however that may be. And he started getting all pissed off, something about how awkward ‘I accept you’ speeches were what he had to look forward to if he was lucky and then he got even more mad because I wouldn’t also have to hear awkward ‘I accept you’ speeches. It’s as if he’s mad that I won’t have to suffer because I’m not gay or whatever Mason is.”

Ezra’s mind feels blank at the moment, because honestly? He hadn’t expected Mason to react like that either.

“...Really?” Ezra asks, truly curious if Zane is telling the truth, “He went radical on you?”

Zane lets out a scoff, “He called me a Kinsey 0 bastard. What the fuck does that even mean?”

Ezra can’t help it. He snorts out a laugh that turns slightly hysterical. Mason did not call Zane that. He did not.

“He didn’t call you that,” Ezra says, trying to search Zane’s face for the lie. He comes up with nothing. 

“He did too,” Zane says, “He apparently hates straight people now.”

“He doesn’t hate straight people,” Ezra says, shaking his head as he turns around to grab himself a glass of water, “He hates how some straight people are going to react. There’s a difference. It...It’s a process, alright? There are multiple ways to go through it, but I am surprised Mason is reacting like this so quickly. Or at all. I’m sorry I sent you down there when he’s in some sort of weird phase. Hopefully it doesn’t last too long. Actually, I kind of want to witness it for myself, so I hope it lasts for a little bit. It will probably come in waves, so I think I should be good.”

“I have never even seen Mason yell,” Zane says, “He literally became some sort of protester, except he wouldn’t leave his bed.”

“That sounds like a little bit of an exaggeration, but okay,” Ezra says, “Thanks for trying. I’m sure he will feel better about what you said once his hangover and his pissiness pass.”

“Yeah, well…” Zane starts, then begins to walk away, “You owe me.”

“I am by far the poorest person here,” Ezra says, shrugging, “I have nothing left to give.”

“Whatever.” 

Kinsey 0 bastard. That’s hilarious. Ezra loves him, he fucking loves Mason for saying that. He wonders what insult Mason’s processing, hungover brain would come up with for him. Pansexual deviant? Corrupter of the straights? He probably wouldn’t go back to a Kinsey scale insult. Mason is too original for that. Ezra isn’t sure he even fits on the Kinsey Scale anyway. He’s probably a solid 4 though, if he does. Maybe a 3.5 but he feels like his openness about his sexuality pushes him over to a 4. Where is Mason at? Is he a 1 or if he’s actually in love with Ezra, would that push him over to a 2? It probably pushes him over to a 2, maybe a 3 they finally fucking start something. Ezra wonders if Mason took the test online. Would have it been recently? Ezra has to wonder when it happened and now he really wants to go down and pester Mason about his results but he won’t. He won’t do that, because that will make Zane look like a blabbermouth. He’ll continue to give him space until he’s feeling better. 

Ezra just can’t help but feel good over Mason’s response to Zane. It hadn’t been denial or silence. It was a confirmation. That’s good for Ezra, but it’s even better for Mason and his self-acceptance. So yeah, Ezra is feeling pretty fucking great about it. He sits in the living room with his friends and doesn’t even need to talk much to get his mind off of things. He doesn’t want to get his mind off of things. He doesn’t feel any need to argue about what to watch on TV as Zane is flipping through the channels like everyone else is doing because he feels fucking good. 

“Investigation Discovery Channel. Done,” Yas says as a couple people in the room groan, “No, don’t act like that. It’s a good compromise between Criminal Minds and the History Channel.”

“Why did it get narrowed down to those two to begin with?” Charmaine asks, disgusted, “I want to watch Orange is the New Black.”

“Because everyone here has watched all of Orange is the New Black,” Yas tells them, “Literally every single person here. If Mason and Hallie were in the room, it might be different, but we’ve all seen it and we’re all caught up.”

“Oh, Mason and I binged that last month,” Ezra tells her, “I made him but he liked it.”

“Well, bring Hallie in then!” Charmaine says, gesturing at the TV, “This unsolved murder bullshit is depressing.”

It is depressing. Ezra gets that it’s depressing. But he can handle it just as well as everyone else in the room can. He’s in a good mood and he can mostly ignore the TV for a solid twenty minutes until some show comes on called _I (Almost) Got Away With It._

_”This week, we unwrap the atrocities committed by a New York City linguistics professor with accolades across the board, but dark secrets and desires that led him to torture, rape, and dismember three young women confirmed by the police, but in reality likely several more. Why were these unsolved murders never officially linked to Victor Hall and what else needs to be discovered for these families to get closure?_

Pictures flash across the screen. Ezra knows every single one of those girls by name. Every single one. The last picture shown is one that is still hanging up in his parents’ living room. It’s Mika’s senior picture. It’s followed by a video of her when they were teens. It had been Mika's sixteenth birthday party. Ezra is in the video. He’s only thirteen in it but had hit a growth spurt that summer and was suddenly taller than Mika. He liked to prove that a lot by throwing his arms around her waist to pick her up and spin her around all while she laughed. It’s what she’s doing on the TV right now, laughing at his thirteen year old self’s antics. It’s something Ezra wishes she could still do.

Yas watches the TV before glancing at Ezra, then glances back at the TV before her eyes settle on Ezra again, “...Ezra, that...Ezra, is that you? Are you related to her?”

Part of him wants to snap at her, point out that he and Mika have the same last name, that the kid on the screen looks an awful lot like him, what does she fucking think the answer is? But he can’t answer Yas, not now. He feels sick. He feels so fucking sick that he doesn’t even see Deirdre walk back into the living room to stare at the screen before looking at him with both concern and what might be panic. 

“Turn it off,” she orders, “Where’s the remote? Turn the fucking TV off!”

Turning it off isn’t going to do shit. Seeing Mika’s smiling face is already burned into his mind.

“I’m fine,” Ezra says as soon as the TV is off and Deirdre is walking over to him, her hands already held out, “Don’t touch me, Deirdre! I said I’m fine!” 

Deirdre keeps her hands outstretched but backs up enough to give him space, “You’re really pale and you’re shaking. You’re not fine.”

“Just…” Ezra grits out, before standing up, “I need some air, alright? I’m okay. Just leave me alone.”

“Ezra, come on, please,” Deirdre pleads following him, “Let someone come with you. It’s going to be okay, but you shouldn’t be alone when you’re so upset-”

“I’m not going to fucking drown myself in the lake,” Ezra says harshly, “I just want time to myself.”

“...Okay,” Deirdre says, sounding incredibly stressed as she lets out a breath, “Just...Just don’t stay gone too long. We all care about you so much.”

Ezra knows that, he does, but he just can’t acknowledge it right now. So he just looks away and walks out the door. 

\----------------------------------

Mason is feeling a bit better. He has finished eating and he’s hydrated and he managed to sleep some more, as well as take another shower around 4:30 to wake himself up. It’s almost 9 pm when he tells himself that he should join everyone else. He’s just delaying the inevitable. It’s not going to make them forget last night. Mason might not feel ready, but he knows that they aren’t going to spread the word on him or anything. He knows that. They’re probably the only people he trusts outside of Molly, Ezra, and maybe a couple of friends from back home. He’s still sort of dreading seeing Ezra too, but there’s a larger part of him that wants to be next to him again. Be near him. Ezra may make him feel like he’s having some sort of lust fueled mental breakdown from time to time, but he’s also a comfort and a warm presence that Mason has never experienced until meeting him. He wants to be with him, in more ways than one, but next to him would suffice right now. 

He’s tracking down his flip-flops and figuring out which shirt to wear when the door opens again. He turns around quickly, thinking it’s Ezra, but it’s not. It’s Deirdre. Ezra had been right, none of these people know how to knock but especially her. 

“You couldn’t knock?” he does have to ask but frowns when Deirdre starts looking around the suite seeming incredibly worried, “What’s wrong?”

“He’s not here?” Deirdre asks desperately, “Ezra? Did you see him at all this afternoon?”

“No,” Mason says, feeling his body tense up with something akin to fear because something about the way she’s asking is putting him on edge, “Why? What’s wrong?”

“I…” Deirdre starts, then throws her hands up, “He said he just needed some air and left! He didn’t take your car or any of ours so I think he has to be nearby but we didn’t see him when we were out on the lake, so I don’t know if he walked up on a road behind the houses or what. I thought he might have just come down here to be with you but he’s not fucking here and didn’t take his phone so I’m really freaking out right now! He’s been gone for four hours!”

“Wait,” Mason stops her, pulling a plain black t-shirt over his head before stepping closer to her, “What do you mean, ‘gone’? Why would he leave?”

“He was really upset,” Deirdre says, her voice sounding a little hoarse, “I can’t blame him. After what came up on TV, it probably gave him flashbacks or something. He looked like he was going to be sick-”

“What came up on the TV?” Mason asks, feeling more urgent, “Why would Ezra get upset about something on TV?”

“Uh…” Deirdre starts, then looks at Mason curiously, “Do you know about his cousin, Mika? What happened to her?”

“...I know she died unexpectedly,” Mason says, feeling like that suddenly feels super vague, “His uncle called him in the middle of the night threatening to kill himself while I was there. I know Mika was his daughter. And that his wife died too. I've asked Ezra if he wants to talk about it, let him know that he can. He never wants to.”

“Okay…” Deirdre breathes out, “I probably shouldn’t tell you this. It’s not my place but I do things that are often not my place in case you didn’t figure that out last night.”

Mason lets out a huff, “I did.”

“Yeah,” Deirdre says, “Sorry about that. It came from a good place though, putting you on the spot like that. I just want Ezra to be happy and you make him happier than I’ve ever seen him. I would be more subtle and tactful saying this to you normally, but any kind of sexual crisis or confusion you may be having kind of feels kind of minor right now because I am really worried about Ezra. I mean it when I say I want him to be happy. He’s gone through so much. He was supposed to have a good time on this trip and relax and we were all hoping something would happen between the two of you. But with that shit coming up, I’m just freaking out-”

“You’re rambling,” Mason tells her, looking down to meet her eyes, “Can you please tell me what happened? You don’t have to tell me everything if you’re worried about betraying his trust. Just give me enough so that I can understand how bad of a place he might be in before I go and find him.”

Deirdre nods before looking away, “Mika...his cousin. She didn’t just die. She was murdered. I mean, they uh...they didn’t find the body for like three years. She was a missing person until a few days after Ezra graduated high school. Mika’s still technically considered unsolved but pretty much everyone knows she was killed by Victor Hall, the serial killer? She was working for him. He was working at her school for like six weeks to do some sort of research on Native Languages and he hired her. He was likely one of the last people to see her before he went back to New York. But her body wasn’t discovered until three years after she disappeared and Hall was dead by that point. They never added her to the official list of victims, she’s just considered a presumed victim on Wikipedia. It’s like the authorities don’t care since they’re both dead. But uh... But Mika was his best friend in the world and her picture as well as a video of her and Ezra were just on TV. He was probably only thirteen in it but you could see that it was him. It was on some unsolved homicide program. Anyway, he saw her and he got all upset. I’m just really worried about him and feel so bad that he saw that-”

“Okay,” Mason says, already grabbing his car keys and heading for the door because he can’t listen to Deirdre talk anymore, not when Ezra is nowhere to be found, not after knowing he saw something like that, “Thanks for letting me know. I’m going to go look for him. I’ll text you when I find him.”

He doesn’t give Deirdre time to respond before he’s shutting the door. His whole body hurts from just _hearing_ that. He can’t imagine what Ezra’s feeling right now. He needs to find him. Mason suddenly doesn’t care about what’s going on between them. That all can wait. He needs to focus on this first. 

He drives around slowly, trying to spot Ezra anywhere. He cranes his neck out to try to spot him on neighboring docks and he goes on the back roads farther away from the lake to see if he can spot him on any of them. It’s not like he can drive around the full lake. Lake Winnipesaukee is huge - the largest in the state. It would take a few hours just to drive around it without stopping. Ezra could NOT have gotten that far on foot. 

He might as well have driven around the whole lake though. He ends up searching for two hours. Two hours of a building panic that have him telling himself that Ezra is okay, he needs to be okay, and texting Deirdre to ask if Ezra has come back yet. When it’s close to midnight and he pulls back into the driveway before grabbing his phone with his shaky hands, wondering if he should call the police. He steps out of the car to give one last look around. The thing is, he almost misses Ezra sitting on the very end of the dock. If the moon weren’t shining on it, he wouldn’t have seen him at all, but there he is, at least Mason hopes it is. Someone is definitely sitting there and that person is definitely alone. 

Pocketing his phone after he lets Deirdre know he found Ezra and to get some rest, Mason walks through the front yard and across the street before stepping onto the dock and walking towards the edge. It’s Ezra, it’s him. Mason feels both an intense relief as well as exasperation course through his body. He suddenly feels exhausted but Ezra is here and he’s not dead at the bottom of the lake. Mason just needs to sit next to him right now, so he slips off his shoes, rolls up his pant legs, and lowers himself down until he’s sitting on Ezra’s right.

“Are you okay?” Mason asks, his voice sounding more strangled and emotional than he thought it would. Ezra doesn’t seem alarmed by it. He doesn’t really react much at all. He just continues to stare off into the darkness, the only light coming from the moon and the reflections of light bouncing off the water. Silently, Mason reaches up and runs his fingers through Ezra’s hair, an action Ezra has done several times to comfort him but Mason has only found the courage to do a few times in return.

“They didn’t even get her birthday right,” Ezra says, not looking at Mason once, “The papers. They were off by a day. It’s July 14th but the papers said it was July 13th. It started a rumor around the state that she was unlucky because of her birthday but it was the wrong day.”

Mason doesn’t say a word, he wouldn’t, not when Ezra’s talking. He just scoots a little closer and presses his forehead against Ezra’s shoulder. 

“My uncle…” Ezra says, sniffling, “Mika disappearing fucked him up, man. She had been missing for about six months when he got into his accident. He couldn’t stop drinking and he was in so much fucking pain. I probably spent more time at his and my aunt’s house than I did my parents’ after Mika went missing. To give them some sort of purpose, I guess. They were more like a second set of parents to me. Mika was like my sister. But with Uncle Chaska...Mika was all he wanted. My aunt couldn’t have any more kids and that used to bother her but it never bothered my uncle. He would say, ‘We have a great nephew and we have the most perfect daughter you could ask for. I’d say we’re doing pretty well.’ But then he didn’t have a daughter anymore, not one we could find. We knew she had to be dead or suffering if someone was holding her. She wouldn’t run away, that wasn’t her. It fucking tortured him. He couldn’t sleep so he would drink until he did and it was rare that you would even see him sober. I was in a play. My mom and my dad already picked up my aunt. Uncle Chaska wouldn’t go. He wasn’t in the mood and he was really drunk. I guess he changed his mind. He was driving out to the school but he was so fucking drunk. There was so much alcohol in his system. He wrapped his car around the tree and ended up in a coma. He was never the same after he woke up.”

Mason doesn’t have any words. There isn’t anything to say to make that better. So he just puts an arm around Ezra and rubs his neck, trying to remind himself to breathe.

“He can’t walk anymore. He didn’t even talk for a while. My aunt would take care of him during the day and I would come over after school to work with him in the evenings. Bathe him, cook for him, read to him, stuff like that,” Ezra says, his voice becoming raspy, “Physically, he started to get better. He started learning to talk again but he was so angry. He would throw things, hit people when he was upset. He couldn’t help it. He was just so mad at himself and the world and the brain injury made his blow ups common. But he was healing. By the time my senior year came, he was trying to react to things a little better. He was raising awareness about Mika, fighting for her case to be re-investigated and be officially connected to Victor Hall. The...The thing is, her body wasn’t even found because of a reopened case. Some maintenance workers were digging to fix a gas line. They found her body on our reservation a few days after my graduation. She went missing in fucking Utah. Hall had gone out of his way, brought her body back, and buried it there. I don’t know if it was out of some fucked up sense of respect or as some sick joke but she was close to home the whole time.”

Mason’s breath hitches and he blinks back the unexpected tears that hit him when Ezra says that. When he glances at Ezra’s face, Mason is shocked to see that his friend isn’t crying. He looks too tired to cry. Too sad. Like going through all of that had been way too much.

“I um…” Ezra says, swallowing past a lump in his throat before continuing, “I went with my dad to identify it. The body. We couldn’t put my aunt and uncle through that. It didn’t look like her, it was a decayed corpse that had been cut up into multiple pieces. The only reason we knew it was her was because there was a ring around one of the fingers. It was the one my dad made her for her sixteenth birthday. He doesn’t usually work with metals, so he worked really hard at it to make it look good. I had helped him pick out a stone for it. I see her decayed hand wearing that ring in my head almost every fucking night before I go to sleep. It’s part of the reason why I like it so much when you stay. You give me something else to focus on. Something good.”

Mason nods, biting his lip to keep himself from crying. He can’t cry, not now, not when Ezra is managing to hold it together.

“Anyway,” Ezra says, shaking himself out of the memory, “We put her to rest. We did all of the rituals that we could with the state her body was in and gave her a traditional Lakota funeral. It should have provided closure.” 

And suddenly Ezra isn’t holding it together and he lets out a sob, causing Mason to sit up straight and put both arms around him as Ezra continues, “But it really fucked up my aunt. I think there was a part of her that hoped so badly Mika was still alive, even if that meant she was being held and tortured somewhere. She just wanted Mika back and when she got her and all that was left was a body, she couldn’t handle it. I tried to help her, I swear I did. I tried to be at the house every-”

Ezra breaks off and cries into his hands. Mason pulls Ezra’s head in until it’s beneath his chin.

“I know you did,” Mason rasps out, his own breathing ragged as he holds Ezra close, “You wouldn’t do anything less. I know that you helped her.”

“I didn’t,” Ezra chokes out, forcing himself to sit back up, as if he doesn’t feel like he deserves the comfort, “I didn’t. I left the house to run some errands. I was going to make dinner for them, so I wanted to get stuff for that. I picked up Uncle Chaska’s prescriptions too. Aunt Una said that she’d be fine, encouraged me to go, and said she was so grateful to have gotten a nephew like me. It sounded off, something about it was wrong, but at the time I thought, ‘Hey, maybe she’s trying to see the good. Maybe she sees me as a person who can help her enjoy her life.’ So I gave her a hug and she held me longer and harder than I think she’s ever held me before. I told her I loved her and would always help her, then I left. I was gone for less than two hours. When I got back, Uncle Chaska said Aunt Una went upstairs to take a bath but she had been up there for a while. There wasn’t any way for Uncle Chaska to go upstairs. We didn’t have the money to install a stairlift but luckily there was a guest room and bathroom downstairs, so their upstairs was barely even used after the accident. Her deciding to take a bath upstairs should have told me something. There was no point going up there. But I gave her some time and I waited downstairs with Uncle Chaska, watched TV with him, cook dinner, and she still didn’t come down.”

Ezra squeezes his eyes shut and continues, “So I went up to see what’s holding her and to let her know dinner's ready. I knocked, no answer. I was thinking maybe she had gotten relaxed and had fallen asleep. I didn’t want her to drown, so I opened the door. My eyes were closed so I wouldn't see anything and I asked her if she’s good. She still didn’t answer. So I opened my eyes and...and her eyes were open too. The tub was filled with bloody water and there was a puddle of it all over the floor of the bathroom because she had left the faucet turned on, just a little bit. Just enough for it to spill over. I ran over to her, slid because of the water, and fell in front of the tub. I was trying to drag her out of it, as if it was the tub that did it. There was blood all over me and I wanted to yell for help but I didn’t want to upset my uncle because I was so afraid the news was going to kill him. I was afraid he’d do the same thing as Aunt Una did. So I called my dad and as soon as I heard his voice, I was fucking hysterical and couldn’t get a word out. He obviously got worried so he came over from across the street and found me and Aunt Una upstairs. My dad’s a strong guy. Really tall, about 6'7'', built like a truck. He came over to me and just picked me up like I weighed nothing, just to get me out of the room and away from all of the blood. He took me into Mika’s old room and was wiping off my face and was trying to calm me down. I kept saying that I needed to tell Uncle Chaska, that I didn’t want to but he needed to know. My dad said he would handle everything and to just stay in Mika’s room. My dad called the sheriff’s department and the hospital to let them know that his sister-in-law had killed herself. He called my mom so that she could bring me clean clothes and come upstairs to sit with me. And then he went down to tell Uncle Chaska. I don’t know how he was able to do that, tell his brother something so awful. I was upstairs and the TV was blasting, but I could hear Uncle Chaska wailing.”

Mason wipes at his face because not crying didn’t work and Ezra has stopped talking now. Going by the look on his face, it doesn’t seem like he has the energy to spare for any more of the story, not after telling him all of that. 

“Anyway…” Ezra says tiredly, “I can’t help anyone, I guess.”

Mason exhales and shakes his head, “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare even think that. You help so many people just by being around and existing. Deirdre was literally looking for you for hours because she loves you so much. You help Yas with her lines and delivery constantly and you helped Zane become less of a dick. I was told you brought a blow horn when Charmaine’s parents came to visit and blew it every time they didn’t respect their pronouns. You get Hallie out of the apartment sometimes and you’re probably one of the only people she likes. You’re the only one who accepts her for who she is and you’re the only one who really sticks up for her when she’s feeling overwhelmed and needs to be alone. Jessie and Frankie insist you are going to officiate their wedding. Pedro...I don’t even want to say what Pedro says about you, but they’re all good and very intriguing things, I promise.”

“...Intriguing?” Ezra asks, finally turning his head to glance at Mason, still sounding emotional but possibly slightly amused, “You think the shit he says about me is-”

“And you help your uncle,” Mason says, moving on, “You talk him down from crises constantly. He calls you because he loves you and he trusts you, even if he’s saying things he doesn’t mean. And your parents are so fucking proud of you. They love you so much. You help them out even when they don’t want you to because that’s who you are. You go out of your way and put yourself in situations to make someone else’s day or life better. Like that bartender from last week. When she was being harassed for being a little overweight and looked like she was about to cry. You went to bat for her and told the guy off. You were ready to get in a fucking fight to defend someone you didn’t even know.”

Ezra purses his lips, nods, then meets Mason’s eyes, “It’s because she looked like my cousin. She looked a lot like Mika. It’s why I was so clingy with you that night and begged you not to leave. Seeing someone who looked so much like Mika on her birthday is kind of what made me go off the rails a little. Sorry for putting you in that position.”

Mason blinks, “What position? You almost got into a fight, so what? And if you mean staying over at the apartment, it was far from the first time. I’d rather stay with you. I don’t know why you thought you had to ask more than once. You’re…”

Mason lets out a breath and feels a panicky feeling in his chest but forces himself to continue. 

“You’re amazing,” Mason says around the lump lodged in his throat as Ezra watches him, “I can’t imagine not meeting you. I’ve...I’ve never felt so strongly towards a person until I met you. I think about you constantly when you’re not with me and just want to be near you when you are. You’re probably the best thing to ever happen to me. I’m-”

His words are cut off as soon as Ezra quickly leans forward and presses his lips against his. They’re soft and gentle, but only at first. In some ways, it isn’t all that different than a kiss from a girl. There’s a little stubble involved - more than he remembers with Kai, although they had only been fourteen at the time. His kiss with Ezra is a little bit rougher too, but in the best way possible. The mechanics of it are about the same if he compares it to the best kiss he’s ever had, at least up until this point. But the emotions behind it are a lot different. It’s filled with more passion than he’s ever been kissed with. It’s filled with something that feels like love. The sensations behind it leave Mason overwhelmed, only for them to build even more when Ezra cups the back of his head to bring him closer. Mason lets him. He wants to be closer anyway. He lets his lips part once the shock wears off to let Ezra’s tongue flicker against his and he cups each side of Ezra’s face to keep him there because he doesn’t want this to end at all. He’s only about ten seconds into returning the kiss, but it’s growing and becoming more insistent. It's less sweet now. They are both panting into the kiss and using more tongue than before, but that makes it even better. He wants more, he wants everything. There is a heat building in his gut and his heart feels like it’s soaring. It’s the type of fireworks kiss that people talk about but probably rarely experience. He feels completely breathless from elation, want, need, lust, love, and every fucking emotion Ezra is bringing out of him. He feels light-headed from it but he can’t stop. He hasn’t felt this good in his entire life.

He has to wonder if Ezra feels what he’s feeling. Maybe he doesn’t, since he’s the one who breaks it off. 

“I’m sorry,” Ezra says, closing his eyes before pressing his face into Mason’s collarbone as he breathes heavily, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“What do you mean?” Mason says into Ezra’s ear as he tries to catch his own breath, putting his arms around Ezra despite the sinking feeling in his stomach over the apology.

“You…” Ezra starts, then sits up again, his eyes darting towards Mason’s lips before clearing his throat, “You just said all of that beautiful stuff and it was about me and you look so good. I...You should know that I’m fucking gone for you. For some reason, you didn’t seem to know that last night. That’s really dumb of you, by the way. So fucking dumb.”

“...Wow,” Mason says, huffing out a laugh despite the nerves building in his chest, “I’m sorry that you’ve been subtle and really confusing.”

“How?” Ezra asks, putting his hands on the sides of Mason’s neck, “How the hell was I being subtle? I cuddle with you all of the time, I hold your hand, I check you out and tell you how hot you are. I took you on a romantic hot air balloon ride for your birthday. I faked sick and left work to come lie in bed with you. My mom's excitement went through the roof when we Facetimed her in Boston - not because we saw her ancestor's memorial, but because she heard your voice, found out it was you, demanded to see and talk to you, then went on a tangent about how I can't shut up about you. Really embarrassing at the time since we just went to see two psychics who basically told us that we are going to get married-"

"I thought we both silently decided that the predictions were fake and to just leave it at that," Mason says, amused.

Ezra gives him a look, "The guy knew some stuff that we could have _possibly_ ignored, but that woman knew shit she couldn't have known. There is a good chance she took the fun out of everything by spoiling every surprise my life has to hold, damn. The one thing that she didn't need super psychic powers to see was my feelings for you. They are obvious to literally everyone. Except to you, apparently. I don't know why you are so blind. I mean, I picked you up from Tri-Kappa to take you to Vermont so that we could lie on a beach and look at the stars. I WENT INSIDE Tri-Kappa. Multiple times. That should have fucking told you everything. And on top of all that, I told you last night that we were more than fine and then spooned you while we were both shirtless. I’ve been ridiculously gay for you. It’s been a thing.”

“Okay,” Mason says, feeling slightly defensive and embarrassed, “I can see that now, with you listing everything out. So why are you apologizing for kissing me?”

“Because...” Ezra says, letting out a sigh, “I wanted you to do this on your own time. I was going to wait for you to make the first move if you ever did and I just went for it. I wanted you to be ready and for it to be on your terms before anything happened.”

Mason lets out a groan, “I’ve been struggling for fucking months! Knowing for a fact that you liked me would have helped move things forward.”

“Oh my god,” Ezra says looking around as if he will find something that makes sense, “What did I just say? How the fuck did I not let you know? How did you get into Dartmouth?”

“Good grades, but also alumni connections and athletic ability,” Mason says, biting his cheek, “Can we stop insulting my intelligence now?”

“When you start being smart again, sure,” Ezra says. Mason sighs in exasperation and presses his forehead against Ezra’s.

“I just meant that you could have kissed me on my birthday and I would have liked it,” Mason says softly, frowning when Ezra shakes his head. 

“You would have freaked out back then,” Ezra snorts, then lifts his head up to hold up a hand, “Okay, you may have liked it in the moment, but you would have gone into gay panic shortly after. You wouldn't be a dick to me about it, but you would have started overanalyzing everything."

Mason looks away, “I didn't freak out when you kissed me pretty much everywhere but my lips when we were both high on those brownies. I kissed you back and you just brushed it off, like it never happened. I thought you didn't remember or you thought it was nothing. I only freaked out when I thought you didn't care that it happened."

Ezra sputters, "You didn't say anything either! I thought _you_ didn't remember. Or that you regretted it. I thought you were just feeling ultra affectionate towards someone you saw as a friend since your inhibitions were down."

"I mean, I was obviously feeling affectionate," Mason says, scoffing, "But I wasn't seeing you as a fucking friend when we kept kissing each other. I definitely didn't see you as a friend when we were jerking off together either. When you never said anything, I figured it meant nothing to you while it meant everything to me."

Mason closes his eyes when Ezra stays silent and just decides to continue, "I’ve been dreaming about kissing you since that happened. I’ve had feelings for you for a while, but only really became absolutely sure of what they were last month, even though I have been questioning them for a lot longer. If you would have told me or kissed me - really kissed me - before, I probably would have figured it out a lot sooner.”

Ezra shrugs, then reaches out and gently rubs Mason’s arm, “Alright. Can I kiss you aga-”

Mason’s lips are back on Ezra’s before he can even finish the sentence.

\----------------------

Ezra actually does want to _attempt_ to take this slow, at least for tonight. They’re both feeling pretty raw right now and he knows that. Despite Ezra being ecstatic about kissing Mason, he did just re-hash some of the most fucked up things that ever happened to him in his entire life and broke down a little. He’s not feeling the sexiest he’s ever felt and that’s to be expected. Mason might not have revealed anything fucked up, but Ezra knows it had been a lot for him to put his heart on his sleeve and tell Ezra all of that. 

It’s just really hard to take it slow when they can’t take their mouths off each other. He knows they need to get up from the dock and go back to the suite, or possibly go into separate rooms for an hour to cool down. Usually, he would be more shameless, but Mason’s judgment is completely clouded. Ezra can see his glazed over expression and kiss bruised lips, even in the dark. It could be a newly bi thing. Ezra knows he got super into kissing his first guy. But hell, Ezra is super into kissing Mason, probably more into it than any other kiss he’s had before, and he’s supposed to be the experienced and oversexed one. But he can’t fucking help it. Right now, he prefers kissing Mason over air. He would rather die of oxygen deprivation than separate and take a few deep breaths and that’s just ridiculous. But when hands are going beneath shirts and Mason’s lips start traveling to Ezra’s neck, he knows they need to get up. He doesn’t want Mason to end up getting spooked because someone walks out and sees them. Ezra needs to be responsible. 

“We should go back to the room,” Ezra manages to get out before holding back a moan, “We’re outside where anyone can see us.”

“I don’t care,” Mason says against his neck and Ezra lets out a laugh.

“Bullshit,” Ezra says, his breath hitching when Mason lifts his head back up and their noses brush together before their lips meet once more, smaller kisses this time. Enough to get out a couple of words between them.

“You are...thinking...with your...dick,” Ezra manages to say before the kiss becomes longer and more insistent again. Ezra finds his hand under the front of Mason’s shirt again, slowly traveling down his pecs as he lets his thumb brush over Mason’s right nipple, before letting it travel down his abs until it reaches the waistband of his jeans, toying with the button on them to gauge Mason’s reaction. Surprisingly, Mason doesn’t flinch or back off. Slowly and hesitantly, he ends up doing the same to Ezra. Not the way Ezra thought THAT was going to go, but he’s not mad about it. The opposite, actually. 

No. It’s a bad idea to do this here. This has been established, both in his head tonight and before, back in South Dakota. It’s never fun to be arrested for lewd conduct when you’re hooking up with someone. It has happened to Ezra twice, once when he was fifteen with a guy and once when he was seventeen with a girl...and a guy. Ezra has had a ridiculous amount of threesomes and he’s not even that into them, but that had been his first and he had gotten caught with his pants down - literally. The only reason he doesn’t have a record is because they probably felt sorry for him due to Mika being missing. His dad is also a fucking giant who scared the cop into just releasing him. Ezra had gotten a fucking earful and a ‘Can’t you just wait until you find a room? Or at least get back onto the reservation where you won’t get a potential misdemeanor?’ once he got to the car but it weirdly made his bond with his dad tighter. Honestly, the only reason Ezra likely wasn’t severely harassed by anyone for being pan other than the occasional jab or under the breath comment was probably due to his dad. The dude is super intimidating when he wants to be. After the second time his dad brought him home and after countless times of being caught hooking up with people in his room, his mom bought him a bulk box of condoms and handed them to him. When Ezra asked her why she had bought so many, she had given him an exasperated look and said, ‘Well, apparently you need them, don’t you, player!’ And she was right. He got through all one hundred in less than six months.

He loves his parents.

...He needs to stop thinking about his parents. 

“Up to the house!” Ezra says, breaking the kiss and pushing Mason back before standing up so that Mason doesn’t have a chance to seduce him once more, “I am NOT getting arrested for public sex again. I will not bring shame upon my parents. I am no longer a minor and it hasn’t happened since. It won’t be as easily brushed off either, especially for a third time.”

Mason looks up at him in bewilderment, then shakes his head, “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Because it shouldn’t,” Ezra says, “I was fucking wild in high school when I wasn’t studying or taking care of my uncle. I only calmed down within the last year, to be honest. You missed the train on Mega-Slut Ezra, sorry to disappoint. I’m a lady now.”

“Uh…” Mason said, then looks down at Ezra’s crotch, “You’re clearly not.”

Ezra looks down and yeah, he’s pretty hard. He’s kind of surprised he hasn’t come in his pants. But Mason shouldn’t be judging because he has one too. Ezra won’t call him out on it though.

“Some ladies have dicks, Mason,” Ezra informs him instead, “You should probably know this, being a part of the group of friends that you now have.”

Mason rolls his eyes, “Fine, whatever, that’s fair I guess. Are you coming out tonight too? Is my moment already over? That actually might be a good thing.”

Ezra snorts, then holds out his hand, “Come on. You know I’m kidding. Your coming out process is still spotlighted. You haven’t even really come out, other than to me.”

“And to Zane,” Mason sighs, taking Ezra’s hand to let him help him up, “I yelled it.”

Ezra plays dumb, “Shouting’s always fun, especially when it’s at a frat boy. I don’t blame you.”

“Deirdre too,” Mason adds, “Sort of. When she was looking for you. Plenty of chances to deny stuff but I didn’t.”

“You’re growing up so much,” Ezra says, throwing his arms around Mason as they walk, “I bet you’ll find your label any day now. Pan, Bi, Gay, Heteroflexible-”

“I don’t even know,” Mason says, shaking his head, “I really don’t. I don’t know if I ever will. I just know that I’m way more into you than I have been into anyone else.”

Ezra bites back a smile, then shrugs, “That’s okay. I’m sure Ezra-sexual is a valid identity too.”

When they get to the suite, and enter the bedroom, the air suddenly feels a lot different. Outside had been a clusterfuck of emotions. Trauma and sadness turned into need and love. Need and love turned into exasperation and fondness. Exasperation and fondness turned into impulsive lust. And now? Now the air feels heavy. Ezra usually isn’t nervous about stuff like this. They had both been extremely vulnerable towards each other, so that might be playing into it, but Ezra feels like he might feel the same if they hadn’t had such a huge conversation. Mason is staring at him with wide eyes and Ezra is staring right back and it feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest, so he can only imagine what Mason is feeling.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Ezra says softly, giving Mason an out, “You know that, right? We can wait. We probably should wait.”

Mason nods, then glances towards the bed, “You seriously think that we can lie in bed with each other like we usually do and not do anything?”

“...Yeah, probably not,” Ezra says, pursing his lips, “We could always switch roommates for the night. You go sleep with Charmaine and Pedro can come down here and share the bed with me.”

Mason huffs out a breath and gives Ezra a light shove, “Oh, fuck you.”

“What?” Ezra asks, laughing as Mason walks him backwards towards the bed, “Are you jealous of Pedro? Do you not trust me to keep my hands to myself?”

“You’re a dick,” Mason says, pushing Ezra down so he’s sitting, “Pedro literally talks about wanting you to fuck him every time he sees me. It’s as if it’s the only thing that comes to his mind whenever I’m in close proximity.”

“...Maybe he’s Ezra-sexual too,” Ezra says, trying to sound innocent as Mason looks down at him unamused, “Maybe he senses that you both share a super specific sexuality and he wants to bond with you-”

Before Ezra can finish his teasing, Mason is _straddling_ him. Fucking straddling him, because apparently Mason isn’t innocent at all. Or maybe he gets turned on when he’s jealous. Either way, Ezra is into it, he really is, and how much he’s into it only grows when Mason brings him in for a kiss again. It’s dirtier than the kisses down on the dock and Ezra loves it. He revels in the way Mason’s tongue is licking into his mouth and the way he gently bites at Ezra’s lip. And then, as if that hadn’t been driving Ezra crazy enough, Mason starts to rock - slowly, but unmistakably on purpose - hitting Ezra’s covered erection in just the right spot to make him let out a gasp and clench the back of Mason’s shirt.

“You’re a tease,” Ezra gets out, accepting Mason’s softer kiss.

“Says the one who was just teasing me,” Mason says, pressing two more kisses against Ezra’s mouth.

“Was not,” Ezra says, lifting his head up to kiss Mason’s neck. He can feel Mason’s chest practically heaving against his, even more so when Mason wraps his arms around Ezra to neck him as well. They’re probably going to have matching hickies tomorrow. Should he warn Mason that’s probably going to be a thing? Put a stop to it if the damage hasn’t already been done? But before Ezra can think more on it, Mason is toppling them both over until Ezra’s back is on the bed and Mason is on top of him, their noses brushing together gently as they both just breathe together and try to figure out where to go from here. 

“Here,” Ezra says, putting his arms around Mason. Mason accepts the gesture, more as a hug than as an offer to not have to hold his weight above Ezra, but Ezra doesn’t mind hugging Mason, he never did. He loves hugging him and loves it even more now. After a few moments, Ezra turns onto his side, bringing Mason with him so that they’re both on the bed facing each other. 

“As I was saying before,” Ezra says, running a finger along Mason’s collarbone, “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. I’m willing to take this slow. I don’t want to scare you off. You mean more to me than my dick does.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Mason says and Ezra rolls his eyes. 

“I mean it,” Ezra says, “We can keep it to kissing for a while if that’s what you need. Or go back to the cuddling and hand holding. We don’t have to do anything at all tonight-”

“No,” Mason says, already vetoing putting the brakes on things, “I want you. We already kissed and it took away any ability to be chaste that I had.”

Ezra nods, stifling back a laugh, “I want you too. I just need to know what that means. I’m not going to push you into anything you don’t want. I need you to communicate with me. Use your words. You’re so good with them when you’re writing.”

Mason lets out a sigh, “But not when I’m _talking_.”

“Try,” Ezra says.

Mason looks away for a moment, before he closes his eyes, “I meant it when I said I think about you all of the time. A lot of it has been romantic and sappy stuff, stuff I’ve never really thought about when it comes to anyone else. But more recently, I’ve been...you know.”

“No, I don’t,” Ezra says, “I need to hear it all.”

“You suck,” Mason says under his breath, “...I’ve been _fantasizing_ about you. A lot. Girls don’t do it for me, but thinking of other guys doesn't either. Only you.”

“Oh,” Ezra says, which causes Mason to open an eye, “Same. It’s the Mason channel 24/7 up in here. Strangely not tired of it. What are we doing in your fantasies?”

Mason lets out a semi-hysterical giggle, “Okay, I haven’t been with that many people, but I know none of them asked me about my sexual fantasies about them after the first kiss."

"Wait, how many people have you been with?" Ezra asks, because he's never asked and now the opportunity is just presenting itself.

Mason watches him with just a blank look on his face and Ezra leans in closer.

"You didn't lie to me, right?" Ezra asks, trying to figure out what the big deal is, "Like I said, if you're a virgin, then that's fine-"

"I've been with four people, if we're not counting what we did before," Mason says after clearing his throat, "The three girlfriends I've had and then I had a one night stand in Cancun after getting drunk."

Ezra's eyes widen, "Only four? Seriously? And only one lonely one night stand?"

Mason shrugs and looks down, "It's not my thing. I have come close to hooking up with someone random before, a few times at parties and stuff but I just...I don't know, I can't do it. Are you making fun of me?"

"What?" Ezra says, kind of feeling hurt when he realizes Mason isn't asking that lightly or as a joke, "No. I would never. I wouldn't make fun of you if you slept with no one or a thousand people."

"I only lost my virginity two and a half years ago," Mason says, sounding a little less insecure, "I would have to sleep with multiple people close to every day from February 2012 onwards in order to hit a thousand."

Ezra gives him a look and holds back both a laugh and what is likely a cooing sound because this is just precious, "You lost it on Valentine's Day, didn't you?"

Mason purses his lips, "I don't see why the date matters-"

"You so did," Ezra decides, "That's adorable."

Mason rolls his eyes, "Well, apparently it didn't make the relationship work out since I just made out with you."

"Lucky me," Ezra says happily, "So why did you have the one night stand in Cancun if it isn't your thing?"

"...You really want to know?" Mason asks, letting out a breath.

Ezra rubs Mason's chest, imagining him without the shirt, "Wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know."

"The guys kept trying to get me to hook up with a girl," Mason says, "I wasn't really wanting to since I had never had one before. But she was really pretty and I was drunk and I kept thinking about you non-stop so I figured maybe it was because I hadn't slept with anyone in a while-"

"I don't think you suddenly start obsessively thinking about your guy friends simply because you haven't gotten laid in a while," Ezra says, a little amused. 

"...I was confused," Mason says, "That's what I kept telling myself. And it was true. You confused the hell out of me. But I tried to rationalize it and tell myself that I just liked you because you've been really nice to me. I knew you were really good looking and confident. I thought it might be admiration or something, I don't know. But then I remember feeling an urge in the car when you dropped me off after my birthday, the same kind of urge you get when you want to kiss someone. Anyway, she was there and she was hitting on me. She was a local and wasn't some drunk spring breaker so I slept with her. Seemed more ethical."

"She was local?" Ezra asks, "Was she hitting on you in English or Spanish?"

"She didn't speak English, not much anyway," Mason says, "I speak Spanish. Not quite fluently but close. It was fine."

"You speak Spanish?" Ezra asks, impressed, "Say something now. Turn me on more than I already am."

"¿Alguna vez te callas?" Mason asks. Ezra has no idea what it means, but he bets it's something hot.

"You should talk to Pedro in Spanish, take him off guard," Ezra says, now deciding that this needs to happen, "It's his first language."

"Mention Pedro one more time and I will get out of this bed," Mason says, beginning to sit back up with a glint in his eye.

"So your first one night stand!" Ezra says quickly, getting back on topic as he gently pushes Mason back in his original position, "How did you feel after?"

Mason shrugs, interlacing his fingers with Ezra's briefly, "I kept thinking that I would rather be in a hot air balloon with you than in that hotel room with her."

Ezra feels his heart beat more quickly at that as he holds Mason's hand and kisses the back of it, "...Awwww-"

"Oh my god," Mason says, rolling his eyes as he fails to hold back a smile, "So how many people have YOU been with?" 

Ezra winces, "Uh, do you really want to hear it? Like, do you really want my number so that you know how much of a slut I used to be?"

"It can't be that high."

Ezra chuckles, "You have been with four people and have been sexually active for a little over two years. I have been sexually active for seven and got arrested twice for public sex before I turned eighteen. What is your definition of high?"

"I don’t know," Mason shrugs, "Like, 20." 

Ezra lets out a full on belly laugh at that number.

"You don't have to laugh," Mason says, rolling his eyes, "Seriously, how many?"

Ezra calms himself down and tries to be more serious, "Take your _high_ number and multiply it by five."

Mason gives him a look of disbelief, "One hundred people. You have slept with ONE HUNDRED PEOPLE?"

"Ninety-nine, technically," Ezra says, nodding, then gets a glint in his eye, "Well, it's ninety-nine if you count Megan Moore."

Mason sputters as he sits up, "You fucked Megan? When? After you dropped me off at Tri-Kappa and didn't come in for the party they threw me?"

" _No_ ," Ezra says pointedly, propping himself up on his forearms, "I didn't even call her until after you left for Cancun. It was that next Thursday. I called her up, we hung out, and then tried to have sex but I couldn't stop thinking about you so I got really fucking distracted. Couldn't get it up. Maybe if you hadn't been so against me hooking up with Bassett, I would have been able to get it up for him since he's a guy and I probably do swing slightly more that way, especially with you infiltrating my brain. But Bassett is super cute too-"

"I don't like him," Mason says, frowning. Ezra isn't going to call him out, so he just gives him a knowing look, pats Mason's cheek, and gets back on topic. 

"Anyway, not being able to get it up never happened to me before. It was like her feminine presence wasn't doing it for me because I kept imagining you and who you might be fucking in Cancun."

"I was probably fucking that girl at the exact same time you couldn't get it up for Megan," Mason says, sounding smug, "So you _didn't_ sleep with her-"

"Oh, I went down on her for a solid two hours," Ezra says, smirking, "Do you want to hear about it-"

" _No_ ," Mason says, looking like he's seconds away from pouting before his expression straightens out, "I would rather experience it. Can we stop talking now?"

Ezra shakes his head, "Not yet. Besides telling me you want me to give you head to make up for doing the same to your classmate, what are your other sexual fantasies?"

"You still haven't let that go?" Mason asks, lying back down, "Did I mention we just had our first kiss and that this isn't normal?"

Ezra shrugs, “Our friendship has never really been normal, so why would this be any different? We’ve been spending almost all of our time together for months. We’ve been sharing a bed and going on romantic day trips. You literally just vetoed putting things on hold for tonight. So I kind of need to know what you’ve been wanting to do or try.”

"...Fine," Mason says, swallowing as he looks down, “...When it comes to the basics? Pretty much everything. There might be an exception, but I’m uh...I’m willing to try it out. I just don’t know how it will go.”

Ezra tilts Mason’s chin up, “Are you talking about bottoming? Because if you aren’t comfortable with that, it’s totally fine. There are other ways to feel good and I figured I would bottom first if we ever get to that point anyway, with you being new to all of this.”

But Mason shakes his head, “Actually, I wasn’t talking about that. I’ve been thinking about that a lot. I’ve researched it. I’ve um...I’ve experimented with it recently. I definitely want to try that.”

Ezra blinks and feels heat begin to pool in his groin. He hadn’t been expecting Mason to say that. It is making it harder for Ezra to keep his cool.

“Okay,” Ezra says, his voice only sounding slightly pitchy, “That’s actually good to hear. I guess I’m sort of verse when it comes to guys but I like topping a lot more.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“But we probably shouldn’t do anal tonight,” Ezra says, “That takes some prep and it’s a big step. I uh...I do have stuff here. If it comes down to it. But let’s keep it simple right now, if we do anything at all.”

“If that’s what you feel is best,” Mason says. Ezra lets out an amused sound and brushes Mason’s cheek.

“So if not bottoming, what are you hesitant to try?” Ezra asks, “Because I gotta say, bottoming is probably the scariest and most vulnerable thing I can think of.”

Mason shakes his head, “Not for me.”

Maybe it’s the lack of emotion in Mason’s voice or maybe it’s the way Mason won’t look at him when he says it, but it’s setting off alarm bells in his head. The only time he had that happen around Mason had been when he left work to check on him after hearing he wasn’t doing well and Mason wouldn’t tell him what had gotten him so upset.

“Did someone hurt you? Sexually?” Ezra asks softly as he stares at Mason’s expression closely. 

Mason's initial silence tells him the answer to that question, even though he really wishes it didn't. He suddenly wishes above all other things that his hunch had been wrong, that he had just been assuming the worst due to having a negative outlook on life or something. He's not sure what to do if Mason doesn't answer. It's something Ezra now knows he needs an answer to, even if it is ultimately Mason's past, secret, trauma, all of the above. Going by the look on Mason's face, Ezra has a feeling Mason has possibly never said anything about this out loud.

"It's okay," Ezra whispers, putting his arms around Mason to bring him closer. Mason lets him until his head is resting against Ezra's shoulder, "You can talk to me. You know that."

"...I uh…" Mason starts as soon as eye contact is no longer a concern, all while Ezra rubs small circles into Mason's back, "I didn't know if I should count him when you asked me my number. I decided not to because it wasn't…"

Ezra bites his lip when he feels Mason press his face against his neck more insistently, but only briefly, "I didn't consent to it. At all. It only happened because I was so fucking scared and the person who should have...he should have stopped what was happening. But he laughed at me when I begged him to help me. He just didn't care and left me with him. He had a..."

Ezra tightens his hold on Mason, to try to reassure him so that he'll keep talking. But suddenly Mason's head is up and his walls are back in place again. It breaks Ezra's heart as much as knowing Mason had been assaulted.

"Never mind," Mason breathes out, putting a shaky hand on Ezra's chest as he stares at it, "You don't want to listen to this, I'm sorry."

Ezra feels his breath hitch before holding the hand against his chest to squeeze it gently, "No no no, don't be sorry. Please don't apologize. Never apologize for that or for talking to me about something so important. Can you tell me what happened? Break it down for me a little so I don’t trigger anything? I'll listen to you. I've been listening to you. I care about you so much.”

Mason shakes his head, “I don’t want to get into it.”

“...Can you tell me what you’re worried about doing then?” Ezra asks, deciding not to push for all of the details right now, “So that we can avoid it?”

It’s cheating, Ezra knows it’s cheating to ask that. It won’t tell him everything, but it will tell him something and that’s a start.

“I don’t know…” Mason starts, seeming at war with himself before giving in, “I don’t know if I can give you a blowjob. I don’t know if that’s something I can do or not. I’ve imagined it and it usually works out fine in my head, but I might not be able to actually go through with it.”

The admission sends a spike of anger through Ezra and it’s frustrating because he’s not even sure who to be angry at. Apparently it was a guy, but that's all Ezra has - a fucking pronoun and the likelihood of them having a dick, considering Mason is worried about giving Ezra head. He really wants to push Mason to tell him who hurt him, but going by the look on Mason's face, it had probably been a huge deal to even give Ezra that much. Does anyone else even _know_? Has Mason told anyone at all? Apparently one other person knows, since they fucking laughed when Mason asked for help. No, Mason said _begged_. The situation had been urgent and terrifying enough for Mason to beg some fucking dick to help him and the guy had _laughed_. Ezra feels sick just thinking about it. He feels like fucking crying. He has to wonder if Mason's parents at least know. Ezra can't personally imagine not telling his own parents if he was sexually assaulted. Although maybe he can, especially if it would happen now. He hadn't told them what Howard had tried to do. The last thing he had needed was his father flying in and banging on Howard’s office door to start something, even though he's generally not a violent person. Ezra isn't generally a violent person either, but he feels violent at the thought of Mason being hurt like that. It also makes sense why Mason had reacted the way that he had towards Howard, so much sense. If Ezra knew who hurt Mason, he feels like he would end up doing something over the top too.

But he’s not going to flip out, not now, he can’t. 

“That’s okay,” Ezra manages to say before letting go of Mason's hand to caress his cheek, “Hey, that’s _fine_. I don’t mind. Like I said, there’s other stuff we can do and plenty of time to do it. We don’t have to jump into anything. You know that, right?"

"You've said it a few times now," Mason says, biting his lip, "I get it. Do _you_ not want to do anything tonight? Because of what I just said?"

Ezra's gaze softens, "I want to do anything you're wanting to do. What you told me is really fucking important and I want you to tell me what happened when you're ready, but it changes nothing when it comes to what I am feeling for you. I just…I don't want to scare you off. I'm worried about it."

"Well…" Mason starts, then lets out a breath, "Don't worry. I wouldn't...I never want to not be around you. I don’t think doing some stuff with you is going to scare me just because we end up getting naked.”

“Pfft, yeah okay,” Ezra laughs, letting Mason get back on top of him to kiss at his jaw again. His first thought is to gently push Mason off. Insist that they just hold each other and talk tonight. But Mason would probably feel insulted by that at best or hurt and rejected by it at worst. Ezra knows that Mason wants to put his focus back into what they were doing before. Ezra also knows it would be an asshole move if he starts acting like Mason is fragile. Ezra's still going to do this. He wants it as long as Mason does, and that definitely seems to be the case. But he needs to let Mason take the lead, at least until Ezra can see that Mason is definitely okay. 

Until then? Ezra will just talk about silly shit. He's good at that.

“I like how you just over-simplified sex," Ezra says, as Mason moves down to kiss his neck, You make it sound like we’re scrapbooking. Or playing bingo. Or knitting!”

Mason’s lips pause on the crook of Ezra’s neck before he lifts his head to look down at Ezra incredulously, “Are we at a senior citizens’ nudist colony in this weird scenario you’re coming up with in your head?” 

“No, but we should totally visit one,” Ezra says, “Go read to frail, naked grandmas and grandpas. Become their honorary grandsons. I LOVE old people. They’re so cute. I adore kids too, but we’re focusing on old people.”

Mason stares at Ezra for several moments before dissolving into hysterical laughter, “What the fuck did I just sign up for? You have this reputation of being sexy, desirable, and the best lay ever and this is what we’re talking about when I’m trying to seduce you?”

“So THAT’S why you want me,” Ezra says, sighing as he looks away, “For my body.”

“It’s on the list, but I promise, you have other merits,” Mason snorts, but then looks down at Ezra fondly, “Are you done?”

“I don’t know,” Ezra admits, “It’s really hard for me to shut up and stop being silly when I’m happy, but nervous. You know this is a thing.”

Mason raises his eyebrows, “ _I’m_ making you nervous?”

“Absolutely.”

“How?” Mason asks, still straddling Ezra’s waist but sitting upright now. 

“We’ve discussed this,” Ezra says, letting out a breath, “I’m afraid I’m going to scare you away-”

“And I told you that you wouldn’t.”

“You say that now,” Ezra says, then swallows because he knows he’s toeing the line here, “But you told me you have family that isn’t accepting. I’m worried how that’s going to affect you.”

Mason’s eyes glaze over for a moment and Ezra is already kicking himself for saying anything because he likely just cockblocked himself. God forbid he not bring up really serious topics in bed. However, Mason shakes his head.

“I don’t care,” Mason says and okay, Ezra hadn’t been expecting that, “I really don’t.”

“You do,” Ezra says softly but Mason continues to deny it.

“Fuck my mom. Fuck my dad,” Mason says, his voice sounding slightly shaky, “They’re in Pittsburgh and I’m here. I’m not going to worry about them. I just won’t go back. I barely do anyway. Last time I was in was for Thanksgiving break and that’s only because my mom pestered me to. Probably should have seen signs that she was going to leave my dad then. They barely even call. My dad used to but not anymore. I always end up calling them. So I doubt they’ll notice if they don’t see me anymore.”

Ezra really has nothing to say to that, he really doesn’t. Mason seems like he doesn’t have anything else to say on the subject either.

“Can we stop talking?” Mason asks, looking back down at Ezra again, “You keep interrupting me.”

“I’m sorry,” Ezra says, reaching up to run his hands down Mason’s chest, “I keep thinking about serious stuff. Identity crises, lack of acceptance, naked old people, knitting.”

“So let’s get your mind off of things,” Mason says slowly, pressing his groin into Ezra’s, all while maintaining eye contact. Okay, this is definitely not how Mason would be if they ever started things. Although there have been hints of Mason being sexy, confident, and somewhat dominant, it only pops out when Mason is feeling a certain way. Other than those moments, he's always been so precious, even when he's feeling insecure and not confident at all. Ezra truly thought they would go on dates and cuddle and kiss and possibly light candles for their first time all while Mason avoided eye contact with him out of nervousness. It’s not really Ezra’s style but he had been expecting to take things slow and sweet and he had more than accepted that. Did Ezra create a monster? Did he somehow do this? 

“It’s hard,” Ezra says, pouting.

“I know,” Mason says, nodding, “I can feel it.”

“You’re not wrong. But I didn’t mean _that_ ,” Ezra says, “I meant that it’s hard for me to take my mind off of things when I have serious thoughts, especially when I also feel happy and silly.”

“You do realize your whole state of existence right now is just one big contradiction, right?” Mason asks.

“Yes.”

Mason shakes his head and then out of nowhere, his fingers are on Ezra’s ribs, tickling insistently against them. Unfortunately, Mason somehow knows his most ticklish spots - possibly a sixth sense of some sort, Ezra has no idea - and now he’s giggling uncontrollably.

“Are you done?” Mason asks, still tickling Ezra while he writhes around.

“Okay, fine!” Ezra says holding up his hands as Mason slows down, “I’m done! I’m done!” 

Mason nods, looking satisfied, “Good.”

Good. _Good_. Ezra will show him good, if that’s what he truly wants.

Ezra low-key prides himself on being well-versed in sex. He also is pretty well-versed in getting someone on their back. His dad made him join karate classes when he was six onwards because he expected Ezra might be gay. It hadn’t been to beat the gayness out of him. His dad never cared about Ezra occasionally putting on makeup or saying that Aladdin was just as pretty as Jasmine, but he had wanted Ezra to be prepared. It’s probably the only reason why he hadn’t gotten more injured than he had when he had gotten jumped by Tyler and his friends. 

But since Ezra doesn’t fight, he has found other uses for it. Like right now, when he swiftly gets Mason onto his back and becomes the one on top. 

“Wha…” Mason says, looking disoriented. He doesn’t look mad or stressed out about the position change though. Ezra makes sure of that by studying his expression carefully before going any further. 

“Is this what you want?” Ezra asks, bending down to press hot, wet kisses against Mason’s jaw, before working his way up to nibble on Mason’s earlobe.

“Yes,” Mason breathes out, turning his head to give Ezra more access. That’s fine. He’ll give Mason what he wants. He can do that. He wants it too.

“Sit up,” Ezra commands and Mason obeys quickly. Ezra reaches behind the other man and pulls up Mason’s shirt. Mason gets the hint and gets the shirt the rest of the way off before tossing it aside and pulling Ezra’s shirt up as well. It joins the pile.

For several minutes, they just rock together in the middle of the bed, kissing each other as well as kissing any part of each other’s body they can reach. Ezra mainly focuses on Mason’s jaw and neck while Mason focuses on Ezra’s shoulder and chest. Their breathing is getting heavier and Ezra knows that the arousal is taking a front seat now - past serious conversations, silly conversations, and any kind of trauma, identity issues, or pacing concerns. Neither of them are really _thinking_ at this point. They’re purely acting on instinct. So Ezra doesn’t have any second thoughts when Mason reaches for the button of his jeans again. He doesn’t have them when Mason undos that button and unzips them to reveal his boxer briefs either. Ezra lets his pants slide off and forces himself to get up briefly to pull Mason’s off as well. It’s for the best. It lets Mason lie on the bed properly and it gives them more room to work with. 

They keep their hands from traveling downwards again for a few minutes, simply touching each other’s exposed skin in a way they couldn’t the night before. Ezra might have been the one to break on the dock by kissing Mason first. It’s Mason’s turn to go first this time and he thinks Mason knows that, with the way Ezra feels Mason’s hand traveling down to his navel only to stop short. 

He gets there though. Ezra eventually feels his boxer briefs slide down as he becomes exposed. Mason looks down at Ezra’s dick with what looks like fascination. It kind of makes Ezra want to tease him a little, but he refrains - especially when Mason puts his hand around Ezra’s cock and slowly begins moving it up and down, almost experimentally. Ezra breathes out through his nose at the sensation before leaning down to crash his lips against Mason’s and whisper in his ear, “Can I touch you too?”

Mason nods, looking overwhelmed but very accepting of the proposition as he takes his hand off of Ezra so that Ezra can pull his own underwear completely off as well as Mason’s. Ezra aligns his body with Mason’s and kisses him gently. He kisses his head and his face then moves onto his lips before reaching down to grab their adjoined cocks to jerk them together, slowly at first but he builds up his speed when he has Mason writhing on the bed. Mason, almost insistently, reaches down too. Both hands on both dicks don’t really work so they begin jerking each other instead. Mason looks like he’s completely out of his head right now and Ezra can silently admit that he’s proud of himself for still having it despite going on a Mason inflicted dry spell. But Mason should be proud of himself too. He’s making Ezra feel pretty fucking good, better than he has possibly ever felt. Is it a feelings thing? Is this what sex with feelings is like? Has Ezra’s lack of strong emotional connections outside of his family and friends kept him from feeling this? If so, he’s an idiot but maybe he isn’t because if he would have formed a strong emotional connection and committed to someone before, he might not be with Mason right now and there is nowhere else he’d rather be. 

They both have a surprising amount of stamina. Ezra is starting to feel like it’s a contest on who lasts longer and he’s getting a feeling he just might lose. He ends up being right. Soon enough, he shoots his load with a moan and it lands on Mason’s stomach and chest. He lets his forehead rest against the crook of Mason’s neck as he still gently jerks Mason’s cock. Ezra feels Mason pressing kisses against the side of his cheek and stroking his back and it feels incredibly nice. Ezra wants to make Mason feel incredibly nice too. 

“I know you are nervous about sucking me off,” Ezra says, focusing on kissing Mason’s shoulder so that he won’t have to focus on Mason’s reaction, “But would you want me to suck you off? I really want to. But only if you want it.”

Mason’s already nodding, “Okay. Yeah, I’m cool with that.”

Ezra laughs against Mason’s skin, “You’re ‘cool’ with that.”

Ezra lifts himself above Mason once more and looks down at his face, just to be sure. But Mason looks more fond than anything, maybe like he is anticipating something in excitement too. Good. He should be excited. Ezra is great at sucking guys off. But he doesn’t do it immediately. He kisses Mason’s lips again and focuses on them for a while before kissing his chin and slowly making his way down. He zeroes in on Mason’s nipple, which has him practically hissing out through his teeth at the sensation. Noted. 

He traces his tongue down the center of Mason’s abs and glances up when he licks his own cum off of Mason’s skin. It definitely causes a reaction, going by the way Mason is breathing and staring down at him with increased desire. The corner of Ezra’s mouth just quirks up in response as he moves to Mason’s hipbone to nibble against it, puts his hands underneath Mason’s ass to bring him closer, then finally moves onto Mason’s dick and swallows it down in one go and begins to bob his head up and down.

“Oh, fuck!” Mason yells out, his back arching as he presses a fist to his mouth, “Jesus Christ, warn a guy...oh fuck oh my god fuck fuck-”

“Wow,” Ezra says, pulling off Mason’s dick with a _pop_ , “I don’t think I have ever heard you say ‘fuck’ so many times in my life. This whole night definitely left PG-13 territory because of you.”

“You were literally just sucking on my dick! ” Mason accuses, “We’re NC-17 at best. If you would KEEP GOING, we would be in straight up porn territory.”

“Oh, so you want me to keep going?” Ezra asks, causing Mason to glare down at him so Ezra begins jerking his cock slowly, “I mean, you just sounded really overwhelmed and you’ve never been one to really curse unless you’re angry-”

“Please!” Mason says, gasping as his head falls back down on the pillow in defeat and he loses any self-dignity he previously had. Ezra has to hold back a laugh.

“Okay,” Ezra says, nodding, “I’ll keep going. But only because your dick is so nice. Incredible. Possibly the best dick in this room.”

“Yours is bigger,” Mason breathes out, letting out a whimper when Ezra runs his tongue up from the base to the tip. 

“Yours is definitely above average. Perfect, honestly,” Ezra says, pressing a kiss against the head, "I can’t believe you are putting off getting a blowjob just because you want to compare dicks.”

“ _I’m_ not putting off sh…” Mason starts but trails off with a moan as Ezra gets back on task. He might have taken some time to poke a little fun, but he really does want to make Mason feel good. He wants this to be great for him. 

So he gives it his all and worships Mason’s cock. He deepthroats it, kisses it, licks it obscenely, and pays attention to what touches Mason really seems to like the most and repeats them so that Mason is close to the edge. Ezra knows he is. He can feel Mason’s dick practically throbbing in his mouth. 

“I’m going to come,” Mason gets out, “If you want to move.”

Ezra only takes his head off of his dick for the briefest moment, enough to get a, “Nope” out before sucking Mason down. It causes Mason to reach down and touch his hair but not grab it or push Ezra off or - worse - down. Ezra’s not surprised that Mason isn’t a head pusher. He’s glad he’s not for multiple reasons, but he gets why if something happened to him. So Ezra takes one hand out from underneath Mason and offers it to him, letting their fingers interlace. Maybe it’s a coincidence or maybe it’s the grounding affection that he needs, but Mason comes inside Ezra’s mouth shortly after and Ezra swallows down every drop before lifting his head up to watch Mason now that he’s finally had some release. He can’t really help but prepare himself for the worst. Before, Mason had been driven by lust and need. Now that the edge is off, Ezra can’t help but wonder if he’ll have second thoughts. But Mason looks down at him and meets his eyes tenderly, letting their fingers stay intertwined.

“Come here,” he murmurs, so Ezra does, making his way up Mason’s body until their faces are just a few inches away from each other and he’s running his fingers through Mason’s hair. Mason lifts his head up slightly to bump Ezra’s nose with his and Ezra takes the hint and meets Mason to kiss him sweetly. They keep it that way for a while, until the kiss becomes more rough again and Mason darts his tongue out to lick Ezra’s lips.

“Quick recovery period,” Ezra says, feeling Mason grow hard beneath him.

“I’m twenty,” Mason says, pressing open mouthed kisses on Ezra’s neck, “What were you expecting?”

Ezra snorts, “You say that like I’m forty and not two years older than you.”

“Two years, three months, and seventeen days,” Mason corrects and Ezra just looks down at him with a blank stare.

“Why do you even know that?” Ezra asks.

“Because I got into Dartmouth and can do math,” Mason shrugs, “So I’m not sure why you _don’t_ know.”

“I suppose I’m the dumb one now,” Ezra says, smiling before he meets Mason’s lips for a kiss again. And again. And again. Mason’s hips can’t stay still. To be honest, Ezra’s can’t either. Their cocks are grinding together and it feels so fucking good for both of them. Mason’s eyes are closed shut and he’s practically whining with need.

“What do you want?” Ezra asks, reaching up to massage Mason’s nipples with his thumbs. 

Mason breathes in and out quickly as he writhes underneath Ezra, “I want you to fuck me.”

Ezra’s hands pause on Mason’s pecs and he reaches up to cup Mason’s face, waiting patiently until Mason looks at him. 

“Open your eyes,” Ezra says, “I need to see how fucked up you are on endorphins.”

When Mason finally opens his eyes, he looks high. His pupils are so blown that the blue is just a ring around them, his lips are swollen from the constant kissing they’ve been doing, and his breathing is nowhere near baseline.

“Mason, you are fucking high.”

That does pull Mason out of it slightly as he gives Ezra a weird look, “I am not. I’m completely sober, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh no, I’m glad you’re sober,” Ezra says, before gesturing between the two of them, “Or we wouldn’t be doing this. But you are fucked up on brain chemicals, horniness, and your undeniable attraction for me. Don’t get me wrong. I will be totally down to fuck you when you’re like this after we’re more established, but I’m not taking advantage when you are new to all of this and you currently have very little self-control. I want you of sound mind when we decide to do that.”

“I _am_ ,” Mason insists, lifting his head up to kiss against Ezra’s jaw, “I just really want it. I want to know what it feels like.”

Ezra shrugs and tries to stay nonchalant, “It feels good. Like I said, I personally like topping more but some guys like bottoming more. Maybe they have more sensitive nerve endings in there than I do.”

Mason nods, then gets an expression on his face that seems both bashful but determined. Ezra is truly curious about what Mason is about to come up with and is a bit shocked when he opens his mouth.

“I think I would love it,” Mason says, “A lot. What I’ve tried so far, I’ve really liked. I was kind of mad at myself for not trying it sooner. I think your dick would feel so much better. Oh well.”

“What did you try?” Ezra says, his mouth feeling dry. 

But Mason just shakes his head, then lifts his hips to grind his cock against Ezra’s again, “You don’t want to hear about it. Not when I’m fucked up on endorphins. Forget it. It’s fine.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a fucking cocktease!” Ezra groans as he sits up, “Is this normal for you? To fuck with your sexual partners’ resolve by teasing and seducing them until they cave?”

Mason stares at him innocently, “That sounds sinister. I just really like you.”

Ezra can’t hold back the unexpected laugh at that before tickling Mason in delayed retaliation, “You are such a shit!”

“I’m n-not!” Mason says laughing as Ezra tickles his ribs and neck before Mason suddenly sits up and yanks Ezra down for an impulsive and rough kiss, causing their teeth to briefly clack as they find a rhythm, both in their kiss and in their grinding. It’s an interesting way to come and it might let Mason feel somewhat sated if Ezra gets him in the right position. Right now, Mason is sitting up and Ezra is straddling his lap but he thinks he can work a new position out. Ezra is NOT fucking him tonight. He meant it when he said that. But he can give him a taste of what it will look like. Tease him like Mason has teased Ezra. So Ezra pushes on Mason’s chest until he’s lying back down again, shushing him when he makes a sound of disappointment as Ezra gets off his lap only to watch Mason’s eyes widen when Ezra throws the younger man’s legs up on his shoulders. 

“I thought you said we weren’t going to have sex,” Mason says, sounding strained. By the position he’s in physically or emotionally, Ezra doesn’t know, but Mason still looks excited. 

“We’re not, not anal anyway,” Ezra says, rocking their cocks together again, “We’re just doing the same thing as before, except I’m doing it in the position I will fuck you in when the time comes.”

“When?” Mason whispers, accepting a kiss when Ezra leans down. Ezra lets the kiss last for a bit before answering. 

“If you still want to do it tomorrow night...” Ezra says, before looking at the alarm clock to see that it’s already 3 am, “Or I guess technically tonight, we can do it - if you are still really wanting to try it. I just want you to think about it while you have a clear head. We can both prepare, make sure it’s what we want to do. I’ll be ready too, in case you change your mind on the position and want to top instead.”

“I won’t,” Mason says, letting out a moan when Ezra grinds into him a little more quickly, “I don’t want to fuck you.”

Ezra stops moving and looks down at Mason incredulously, “Wow. That’s rude.”

Mason immediately starts shaking his head, “I didn’t mean it like that. I definitely want to someday, but I don’t know. I’m nervous about that, I guess.”

“...I don’t understand,” Ezra admits, “Topping is probably closer to having sex with a girl than bottoming is. I would have figured it would be closer to your comfort zone.”

“I’ve never done anal with a girl,” Mason says, “So not really.”

“Still,” Ezra says, starting to slowly move again, “Past the prep and the location, the mechanics are similar. So why are you nervous?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you,” Mason says honestly, “I know it can really hurt if the top isn't careful and I don’t want to hurt you, especially you.”

“...And you think I want to hurt you?” Ezra asks, meeting Mason’s eyes, “Huh? Do you think I would be willing to risk that?”

“No. I don’t think that. I think you’ll make me feel good. And I want to make _you_ feel good,” Mason says, looking away, “I trust you not to hurt me.”

Ezra nods, then bends down to kiss Mason’s cheek because he really doesn’t have anything else to say to that. The chaste and sweet kiss might not fit in with what they’re currently doing, but Ezra honestly doesn’t care. Right now, he just cares about the person beneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this major chapter! Let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think!


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